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-i I p. A M B I N G H Aivl 




Xil>rar\> Jrun^ 



"Somethina; hidden Goandfindit. Goand look behind the Ranges — 
Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go! " 

Kipling: " The Explorer " 


Explorations in the Highlands 
of Peru 



Director oj the Peruvian Expeditions oj Yale University and the 

National Geographic Society, Member of the American Alpine 

Club, Professor of Latin- American History in Yale University; 

author of "Across South America," etc. 



Jl^ift B&ibetrsiibe l^ttee CambctbQe 













THE following pages represent some of the re- 
sults of four journeys into the interior of Peru 
and also many explorations into the labyrinth of 
early writings which treat of the Incas and their 
Land. Although my travels covered only a part of 
southern Peru, they took me into every variety of 
climate and forced me to camp at almost every alti- 
tude at which men have constructed houses or 
erected tents in the Western Hemisphere — from 
sea level up to 21,703 feet. It has been my lot to 
cross bleak Andean passes, where there are heavy 
snowfalls and low temperatures, as well as to wend 
my way through gigantic canyons into the dense 
jungles of the Amazon Basin, as hot and humid a re- 
gion as exists anywhere in the world. The Incas 
lived in a land of violent contrasts. No deserts in the 
world have less vegetation than those of Sihuas and 
Majes; no luxuriant tropical valleys have more 
plant life than the jungles of Conservidayoc. In 
Inca Land one may pass from glaciers to tree ferns 
within a few hours. So also in the labyrinth of con- 
temporary chronicles of the last of the Incas — no _k 
historians go more rapidly from fact to fancy, from 
accurate observation to grotesque imagination; no 
writers omit important details and give conflicting 
statements with greater frequency. The story of the 
Incas is still in a maze of doubt and contradiction. 
It was the mystery and romance of some of the 


wonderful pictures of a nineteenth-century explorer 
that first led me into the relatively unknown region 
between the Apurimac and the Urubamba, some- 
times called "the Cradle of the Incas." Although 
my photographs cannot compete with the imagina- 
tive pencil of such an artist, nevertheless, I hope that 
some of them may lead future travelers to penetrate 
still farther into the Land of the Incas and engage 
in the fascinating game of identifying elusive places 
mentioned in the chronicles. 

Some of my story has already been told in Har- 
per's and the National Geographic, to whose editors 
acknowledgments are due for permission to use 
the material in its present form. A glance at the 
Bibliography will show that more than fifty articles 
and monographs have been published as a result of 
the Peruvian Expeditions of Yale University and the 
National Geographic Society. Other reports are still 
in course of preparation. My own observations are 
based partly on a study of these monographs and 
the writings of former travelers, partly on the maps 
and notes made by my companions, and partly on a 
study of our Peruvian photographs, a collection now 
numbering over eleven thousand negatives. An- 
other source of information was the opportunity of 
frequent conferences with my fellow explorers. One 
of the great advantages of large expeditions is the 
bringing to bear on the same problem of minds 
which have received widely different training. 

My companions on these journeys were, in 1909, 
Mr. Clarence L. Hay; in 191 1, Dr. Isaiah Bowman, 
Professor Harry Ward Foote, Dr. William G. Erv- 


ing, Messrs. Kai Hendriksen, H. L. Tucker, and 
Paul B. Lanius; in 19 12, Professor Herbert E. Gre- 
gory, Dr. George F. Eaton, Dr. Luther T. Nelson, 
Messrs. Albert H. Bumstead, E. C. Erdis, Kenneth 
C. Heald, Robert Stephenson, Paul Bestor, Osgood 
Hardy, and Joseph Little; and in 1915, Dr. David 
E. Ford, Messrs. O. F. Cook, Edmund Heller, E. C. 
Erdis, E. L. Anderson, Clarence F. Maynard, J. J. 
Hasbrouck, Osgood Hardy, Geoffrey W. Morkill, 
and G. Bruce Gilbert. To these, my comrades in en- 
terprises which were not always free from discom- 
fort or danger, I desire to acknowledge most fully 
my great obligations. In the following pages they 
will sometimes recognize their handiwork; at other 
times they may wonder why it has been overlooked. 
Perhaps in another volume, which is already under 
way and in which I hope to cover more particularly 
Machu Picchu ^ and its vicinity, they will eventually 
find much of what cannot be told here. 

Sincere and grateful thanks are due also to Mr. 
Edward S. Harkness for offering generous assistance 
when aid was most difffcult to secure; to Mr. Gilbert 
Grosvenor and the National Geographic Society for 
liberal and enthusiastic support; to President Taft of 
the United States and President Leguia of Peru for 

' Many people have asked me how to pronounce Machu Picchu. 
Quichua words should always be pronounced as nearly as possible as 
they are written. They represent an attempt at phonetic spelling. 
If the attempt is made by a Spanish writer, he is always likely to 
put a silent "h" at the beginning of such words as hnilca which is 
pronounced "weel-ka." In the middle of a word "h" is always 
sounded. Machu Picchu is pronounced " Mah'-chew Pick'-chew." 
Uiticos is pronounced " Weet'-ee-kos." Uilcapampa is pronounced 
" Weel'-ka-pahm-pah." Cuzco is "Koos'-koh." 


official help of a most important nature ; to Messrs. 
W. R. Grace & Company and to Mr. William L. 
Morkill and Mr. L. S. Blaisdell, of the Peruvian Cor- 
poration, for cordial and untiring cooperation; to 
Don Cesare Lomellini, Don Pedro Duque, and their 
sons, and Mr. Frederic B. Johnson, of Yale Univer- 
sity, for many practical kindnesses; to Mrs. Blanche 
Peberdy Tompkins and Miss Mary G. Reynolds for 
invaluable secretarial aid ; and last, but by no means 
least, to Mrs. Alfred Mitchell for making possible 
the writing of this book. 

Hiram Bingham 

Yale University 
October i, 1922 


I. Crossing the Desert i 

11. Climbing Coropuna 23 

III. To Parinacochas 50 

IV. Flamingo Laice 74 


VI. The Vilcanota Country and the Peru- 
vian Highlanders iio 

VII. The Valley of the Huatanay 133 

VIII. The Oldest City in South America 157 

IX. The Last Four Incas 170 

X. Searching for the Last Inca Capital 198 

XL The Search Continued 217 

XI I. The Fortress of Uiticos and the House 

OF the Sun 241 


XIV. Conservidayoc 266 

XV. The Pampa of Ghosts 292 

XVI. The Story of Tampu-tocco, a Lost City 

OF the First Incas 306 

XVII. Machu Picchu 314 

XVIII. The Origin of Machu Picchu 326 


Glossary 341 

Bibliography of the Peruvian Expeditions of 
Yale University and the National Geo- 
graphic Society 345 

Index 353 


"Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and 

Sketch Map of Southern Peru i 

Mt. Coropuna from the Northwest 12 

Mt. Coropuna from the South 24 

The Base Camp, Coropuna, at 17,300 Feet 32 

Photograph by H. L. Tucker 

Camping at 18,450 Feet on the Slopes of Coro- 
puna 32 

Photograph by H. L. Tucker 

One of the Frequent Rests in the Ascent of 
Coropuna 42 

Photograph by H. L. Tucker 

The Camp on the Summit 42 

Photograph by H. L. Tucker 

The Sub-Prefect of Cotahuasi, his Military 
Aide, and Messrs. Tucker, Hendriksen, Bow- 
man, AND Bingham inspecting the Local Rug- 
weaving Industry 60 

Photograph by C. Watkins 

Inca Storehouses at Chichipampa, near Colta 66 

Photograph by H. L. Tucker 

Flamingoes on Lake Parinacochas, and Mt. 
Sara SARA 78 

Mr. Tucker on a Mountain Trail near Caraveli 90 

The Main Street of Chuquibamba 90 

Photograph by H. L. Tucker 

A Lake Titicaca Balsa at Puno 98 


A Step-topped Niche on the Island of Koati 98 

Indian Alcaldes AT Santa Rosa 114 

Native Druggists in the Plaza of Sicuani 114 

Laying down the Warp for a Blanket; near the 

Pass of La Raya 120 

Plowing a Potato-Field at La Raya 120 

The Ruins of the Temple of Viracocha at 

Racche 128 

Route Map of the Peruvian Expedition of 1912 132 

Lucre Basin, Lake Muyna, and the City Wall 

OF Piquillacta 136 

Sacsahuaman: Detail of Lower Terrace Wall 140 

Ruins of the Aqueduct of Rumiccolca 140 

Huatanay Valley, Cuzco, and the Ayahuaycco 

Que BR ADA 150 

Map of Peru and View of Cuzco 158 

From the "Speculum Orbis Terrarum," Antwerp, 1578 

Towers of Jesuit Church with Cloisters and 

Tennis Court of University, Cuzco 162 

Glaciers between Cuzco and Uiticos 170 

The Urubamba Canyon: A Reason for the 

Safety of the Incas in Uilcapampa 176 

YucAY, Last Home of Sayri Tupac 186 

Part of the Nuremberg Map of 1599, showing 

Pincos and the Andes Mountains 198 

Route Map of the Peruvian Expedition of 1915 202 

Mt. Veronica and Salapunco, the Gateway to 

Uilcapampa 206 

Grosvenor Glacier and Mt. Salcantay 210 

The Road between Maquina and Mandor 

Pampa, near Machu Picchu 214 

Huadquina 220 


Ruins of Yurak Rumi near Huadquina 225 

Plan and elevations drawn by A. H. Bumstead 

CABAMBA Valley 238 

Principal Doorway of the Long Palace at 


Photograph by E. C. Erdis 

Another Doorway in the Ruins of Rosaspata 242 

Northeast Face of Yurak Rumi 246 

Plan of the Ruins of the Temple of the Sun 
at Nusta Isppana 248 

Drawn by A. H. Bumstead 

Carved Seats and Platforms of Nusta Isppana 250 

Two of the Seven Seats near the Spring under 
THE Great White Rock 250 

Photograph by A. H. Bumstead 

Nusta Isppana 256 

Quispi Cusi testifying about Inca Ruins 268 

Photograph by H. W. Foote 

One of our Bearers crossing the Pampaconas 
River 268 

Photograph by H. W. Foote 

Saavedra and his Inca Pottery 288 

Inca Gable at Espiritu Pampa 288 

Photograph by H. L. Tucker 

Inca Ruins in the Jungles of Espiritu Pampa 294 
Campa Men at Espiritu Pampa 302 

Photograph by H. L. Tucker 

Campa Women and Children at Espiritu Pampa 302 

Photograph by H. L. Tucker 

Puma Urco, near Paccaritampu 306 

The Best Inca Wall at Maucallacta, near 
Paccaritampu 312 


The Caves of Puma Urco, near Paccaritampu 312 

Flashlight View of Interior of Cave, Machu 
PiccHu 320 

Temple over Cave at Machu Picchu; suggested 
BY THE Author as the Probable Site of Tam- 
pu-Tocco 320 

Detail of Principal Temple, Machu Picchu 324 

Detail of Exterior of Temple of the Three 
Windows, Machu Picchu 324 

The Masonry Wall with Three Windows, 
Machu Picchu 328 

The Gorges, opening Wide Apart, reveal Uil- 
capampa's Granite Citadel, the Crown of 
Inca Land: Machu Picchu 338 

Except as otherwise indicated the illustrations are from 
photographs by the author. 





A KIND friend in Bolivia once placed in my 
hands a copy of a most interesting book by 
the late E. George Squier, entitled *'Peru. Travel 
and Exploration in the Land of the Incas." In that 
volume is a marvelous picture of the Apurimac 
Valley. In the foreground is a delicate suspension 
bridge which commences at a tunnel in the face of a 
precipitous cliff and hangs in mid-air at great height 
above the swirling waters of the "great speaker." 
In the distance, towering above a mass of stupen- 
dous mountains, is a magnificent snow-capped peak. 
The desire to see the Apurimac and experience the 
thrill of crossing that bridge decided me in favor of 
an overland journey to Lima. 

As a result I went to Cuzco, the ancient capital 
of the mighty empire of the Incas, and was there 
urged by the Peruvian authorities to visit some 
newly re-discovered Inca ruins. As readers of 
"Across South America" will remember, these 
ruins were at Choqquequirau, an interesting place 
on top of a jungle-covered ridge several thousand 
feet above the roaring rapids of the great Apurimac. 


There was some doubt as to who had originally lived 
here. The prefect insisted that the ruins represented 
the residence of the Inca Manco and his sons, who 
had sought refuge from Pizarro and the Spanish con- 
querors of Peru in the Andes between the Apurimac 
and Urubamba rivers. 

While Mr. Clarence L. Hay and I were on the 
slopes of Choqquequirau the clouds would occasion- 
ally break away and give us tantalizing glimpses of 
snow-covered mountains. There seemed to be an 
unknown region, "behind the Ranges," which might 
contain great possibilities. Our guides could tell us 
nothing about it. Little was to be found in books. 
Perhaps Manco's capital was hidden there. For 
months afterwards the fascination of the unknown 
drew my thoughts to Choqquequirau and beyond. 
In the words of Kipling's "Explorer"; 

"... a voice, as bad as Conscience, rang interminable changes 
On one everlasting Whisper day and night repeated — so: 
'Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the 

Ranges — 
Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. 


To add to my unrest, during the following sum- 
mer I read Bandelier's "Titicaca and Koati," which 
had just appeared. In one of the interesting foot- 
notes was this startling remark: "It is much to be 
desired that the elevation of the most prominent 
peaks of the western or coast range of Peru be accu- 
rately determined. It is likely . . . that Coropuna, 
in the Peruvian coast range of the Department Are- 
quipa, is the culminating point of the continent. It 


exceeds 23,000 feet in height, whereas Aconcagua 
[conceded to be the highest peak in the Western 
Hemisphere] is but 22,763 feet (6940 meters) above 
sea level." His estimate was based on a survey made 
by the civil engineers of the Southern Railways of 
Peru, using a section of the railroad as a base. My 
sensations when I read this are difficult to describe. 
Although I had been studying South American his- 
tory and geography for more than ten years, I did 
not remember ever to have heard of Coropuna. On 
most maps it did not exist. Fortunately, on one of 
the sheets of Raimondi's large-scale map of Peru, 
I finally found "Coropuna — 6,949 m." — 9 meters 
higher than Aconcagua! — one hundred miles north- 
west of Arequipa, near the 73d meridian west of 

Looking up and down the 73d meridian as it 
crossed Peru from the Amazon Valley to the Pacific 
Ocean, I saw that it passed very near Choqque- 
quirau, and actually traversed those very lands 
"behind the Ranges" which had been beckoning to 
me. The coincidence was intriguing. The desire to 
go and find that "something hidden " was now reen- 
forced by the temptation to go and see whether 
Coropuna really was the highest mountain in Amer- 
ica. There followed the organization of an expedi- 
tion whose object was a geographical reconnaissance 
of Peru along the 73d meridian, from the head of 
canoe navigation on the Urubamba to tidewater on 
the Pacific. We achieved more than we expected. 

Our success was due in large part to our "unit- 
food-boxes," a device containing a balanced ration 


which Professor Harry W. Foote had cooperated 
with me in assembHng. The object of our idea was 
to facilitate the provisioning of small field parties by 
packing in a single box everything that two men 
would need in the way of provisions for a given 
period. These boxes have given such general satis- 
faction, not only to the explorers themselves, but to 
the surgeons who had the responsibility of keeping 
them in good condition, that a few words in regard 
to this feature of our equipment may not be unwel- 

The best unit-food-box provides a balanced ration 
for two men for eight days, breakfast and supper 
being hearty, cooked meals, and luncheon light and 
uncooked. It was not intended that the men should 
depend entirely on the food-boxes, but should vary 
their diet as much as possible with whatever the 
country afforded, which in southern Peru frequently 
means potatoes, corn, eggs, mutton, and bread. 
Nevertheless each box contained sliced bacon, tinned 
corned beef, roast beef, chicken, salmon, crushed 
oats, milk, cheese, coffee, sugar, rice, army bread, 
salt, sweet chocolates, assorted jams, pickles, and 
dried fruits and vegetables. By seeing that the jam, 
dried fruits, soups, and dried vegetables were well 
assorted, a sufficient variety was procured without 
destroying the balanced character of the ration. On 
account of the great difficulty of transportation in 
the southern Andes we had to eliminate foods that 
contained a large amount of water, like French peas, 
baked beans, and canned fruits, however delicious 
and desirable they might be. In addition to food, we 


found it desirable to include in each box a cake of 
laundry soap, two yards of dish toweling, and three 
empty cotton-cloth bags, to be used for carrying 
lunches and collecting specimens. The most highly 
appreciated article of food in our boxes was the 
rolled oats, a dish which on account of its being al- 
ready partially cooked was easily prepared at high 
elevations, where rice cannot be properly boiled. It 
was difficult to satisfy the members of the Expedi- 
tion by providing the right amount of sugar. At the 
beginning of the field season the allowance — one 
third of a pound per day per man — seemed exces- 
sive, and I was criticized for having overloaded the 
boxes. After a month in the field the allowance 
proved to be too small and had to be supplemented. 
Many people seem to think that it is one of the 
duties of an explorer to "rough it," and to "trust to 
luck" for his food. I had found on my first two 
expeditions, in Venezuela and Colombia and across 
South America, that the result of being obliged to 
subsist on irregular and haphazard rations was most 
unsatisfactory. While "roughing it" is far more en- 
ticing to the inexperienced and indiscreet explorer, 
I learned in Peru that the humdrum expedient of 
carefully preparing, months in advance, a compre- 
hensive bill of fare sufficiently varied, wholesome, 
and well-balanced, is "the better part of valor." 
The truth is that providing an abundance of appe- 
tizing food adds very greatly to the effectiveness of a 
party. To be sure, it may mean trouble and expense 
for one's transportation department, and some of 
the younger men may feel that their reputations as 


explorers are likely to be damaged if it is known that 
strawberry jam, sweet chocolate and pickles are fre- 
quently found on their menu ! Nevertheless, experi- 
ence has shown that the results of "trusting to luck " 
and "living as the natives do" means not only loss of 
efficiency in the day's work, but also lessened powers 
of observation and diminished enthusiasm for the 
drudgery of scientific exploration. Exciting things 
are always easy to do, no matter how you are living, 
but frequently they produce less important results 
than tasks which depend upon daily drudgery; and 
daily drudgery depends upon a regular supply of 
wholesome food. 

We reached Arequipa, the proposed base for our 
campaign against Mt. Coropuna, in June, 191 1. We 
learned that the Peruvian "winter" reaches its 
climax in July or August, and that it would be folly 
to try to climb Coropuna during the winter snow- 
storms. On the other hand, the "summer months," 
beginning with November, are cloudy and likely to 
add fog and mist to the difficulties of climbing a new 
mountain. Furthermore, June and July are the best 
months for exploration in the eastern slopes of the 
Andes in the upper Amazon Basin, the lands "be- 
hind the Ranges." Although the montana, or jungle 
country, is rarely actually dry, there is less rain then 
than in the other months of the year; so we decided 
to go first to the Urubamba Valley. The story of our 
discoveries there, of identifying Uiticos, the capital 
of the last Incas, and of the finding of Machu 
Picchu will be found in later chapters. In September 


I returned to Arequipa and started the campaign 
against Coropuna by endeavoring to get adequate 
transportation facilities for crossing the desert. 

Arequipa, as everybody knows, is the home of a 
station of the Harvard Observatory, but Arequipa 
is also famous for its large mules. Unfortunately, 
a "mule trust" had recently been formed — need- 
less to say, by an American — and I found it diffi- 
cult to make any satisfactory arrangements. After 
two weeks of skirmishing, the Tejada brothers ap- 
peared, two arrieros, or muleteers, who seemed will- 
ing to listen to our proposals. We offered them a 
thousand soles (five hundred dollars gold) if they 
would supply us with a pack train of eleven mules 
for two months and go with us wherever we chose, 
we agreeing not to travel on an average more than 
seven leagues ^ a day. It sounds simple enough but 
it took no end of argument and persuasion on the 
part of our friends in Arequipa to convince these 
worthy arrieros that they were not going to be ever- 
lastingly ruined by this bargain. The trouble was 
that they owned their mules, knew the great danger 
of crossing the deserts that lay between us and 
Mt. Coropuna, and feared to travel on unknown 
trails. Like most muleteers, they were afraid of 
unfamiliar country. They magnified the imaginary 
evils of the road to an inconceivable pitch. The 
argument that finally persuaded them to accept the 
proffered contract was my promise that after the 
first week the cargo would be so much less that at 

* A league, usually about i}i miles, is really the distance an average 
mule can walk in an hour. 


least two of the pack mules could always be free. 
The Tejadas, realizing only too well the propensity 
of pack animals to get sore backs and go lame, re- 
garded my promise in the light of a factor of safety. 
Lame mules would not have to carry loads. 

Everything was ready by the end of the month. 
Mr. H. L. Tucker, a member of Professor H. C. 
Parker's 1910 Mt. McKinley Expedition and thor- 
oughly familiar with the details of snow-and-ice- 
climbing, whom I had asked to be responsible for 
securing the proper equipment, was now entrusted 
with planning and directing the actual ascent of 
Coropuna. Whatever success was achieved on the 
mountain was due primarily to Mr. Tucker's skill 
and foresight. We had no Swiss guides, and had 
originally Intended to ask two other members of the 
Expedition to join us on the climb. However, the 
exigencies of making a geological and topographical 
cross section along the 73d meridian through a 
practically unknown region, and across one of the 
highest passes in the Andes (17,633 ft.), had delayed 
the surveying party to such an extent as to make It 
impossible for them to reach Coropuna before the 
first of November. On account of the approach of 
the cloudy season it did not seem wise to wait for 
their cooperation. Accordingly, I secured In Are- 
quipa the services of Mr. Caslmir Watklns, an 
English naturalist, and of Mr. F. Hinckley, of the 
Harvard Observatory. It was proposed that Mr. 
Hinckley, who had twice ascended El MIstI (19,120 
ft.), should accompany us to the top, while Mr. Wat- 
kins, who had only recently recovered from a severe 
illness, should take charge of the Base Camp. 


The prefect of Arequipa obligingly offered us a 
military escort in the person of Corporal Gamarra, 
a full-blooded Indian of rather more than average 
height and considerably more than average courage, 
who knew the country. As a member of the mounted 
gendarmerie, Gamarra had been stationed at the 
provincial capital of Cotahuasi a few months previ- 
ously. One day a mob of drunken, riotous revolu- 
tionists stormed the government buildings while he 
was on sentry duty. Gamarra stood his ground and, 
when they attempted to force their way past him, 
shot the leader of the crowd. The mob scattered. 
A grateful prefect made him a corporal and, realiz- 
ing that his life was no longer safe in that particular 
vicinity, transferred him to Arequipa. Like nearly 
all of his race, however, he fell an easy prey to alco- 
hol. There is no doubt that the chief of the mounted 
police in Arequipa, when ordered by the prefect to 
furnish us an escort for our journey across the 
desert, was glad enough to assign Gamarra to us. 
His courage could not be called in question even 
though his habits might lead him to become trouble- 
some. It happened that Gamarra did not know we 
were planning to go to Cotahuasi. Had he known 
this, and also had he suspected the trials that were 
before him on Mt. Coropuna, he probably would 
have begged off — but I am anticipating. 

On the 2d of October, Tucker, Hinckley, Corporal 
Gamarra and I left Arequipa; Watldns followed a 
week later. The first stage of the journey was by 
train from Arequipa to Vitor, a distance of thirty 
miles. The arrieros sent the cargo along too. In addi- 


tion to the food-boxes we brought with us tents, 
ice axes, snowshoes, barometers, thermometers, 
transit, fiber cases, steel boxes, duffle bags, and a 
folding boat. Our pack train was supposed to have 
started from Arequipa the day before. We hoped it 
would reach Vitor about the same time that we did, 
but that was expecting too much of arrieros on the 
first day of their journey. So we had an all-day wait 
near the primitive little railway station. 

We amused ourselves wandering off over the 
neighboring pampa and studying the medanos, 
crescent-shaped sand dunes which are common in 
the great coastal desert. One reads so much of the 
great tropical jungles of South America and of well- 
nigh impenetrable forests that it is difficult to re- 
alize that the West Coast from Ecuador, on the 
north, to the heart of Chile, on the south, is a great 
desert, broken at intervals by oases, or valleys whose 
rivers, coming from melting snows of the Andes, are 
here and there diverted for purposes of irrigation. 
Lima, the capital of Peru, is in one of the largest 
of these oases. Although frequently enveloped in a 
damp fog, the Peruvian coastal towns are almost 
never subjected to rain. The causes of this phe- 
nomenon are easy to understand. Winds coming 
from the east, laden with the moisture of the Atlan- 
tic Ocean and the steaming Amazon Basin, are 
rapidly cooled by the eastern slopes of the Andes 
and forced to deposit this moisture in the montana. 
By the time the winds have crossed the mighty 
Cordillera there is no rain left in them. Conversely, 
the winds that come from the warm Pacific Ocean 


strike a cold area over the frigid Humboldt Current, 
which sweeps up along the west coast of South 
America. This cold belt wrings the water out of the 
westerly winds, so that by the time they reach the 
warm land their relative humidity is low. To be 
sure, there are months in some years when so much 
moisture falls on the slopes of the coast range that 
the hillsides are clothed with flowers, but this ver- 
dure lasts but a short time and does not seriously 
affect the great stretches of desert pampa in the 
midst of which we now were. Like the other 
pampas of this region, the flat surface inclines 
toward the sea. Over it the sand is rolled along 
by the wind and finally built into crescent-shaped 
dunes. These medanos interested us greatly. 

The prevailing wind on the desert at night is a 
relatively gentle breeze that comes down from the 
cool mountain slopes toward the ocean. It tends 
to blow the lighter particles of sand along in a regu- 
lar dune, rolling it over and over downhill, leaving 
the heavier particles behind. This is reversed in the 
daytime. As the heat increases toward noon, the 
wind comes rushing up from the ocean to fill the 
vacuum caused by the rapidly ascending currents 
of hot air that rise from the overheated pampas. 
During the early afternoon this wind reaches a high 
velocity and swirls the sand along in clouds. It is 
now strong enough to move the heavier particles of 
sand, uphill. It sweeps the heaviest ones around the 
base of the dune and deposits them in pointed 
ridges on either side. The heavier material remains 
stationary at night while the lighter particles are 


rolled downhill, but the whole mass travels slowly 
uphill again during the gales of the following after- 
noon. The result is the beautiful crescent-shaped 

About five o'clock our mules, a fine-looking lot — 
far superior to any that we had been able to secure 
near Cuzco — trotted briskly into the dusty little 
plaza. It took some time to adjust the loads, and 
it was nearly seven o'clock before we started off in 
the moonlight for the oasis of Vitor. As we left the 
plateau and struck the dusty trail winding down 
into a dark canyon we caught a glimpse of something 
white shimmering faintly on the horizon far off 
to the northwest; Coropuna! Shortly before nine 
o'clock we reached a little corral, where the mules 
were unloaded. For ourselves we found a shed with 
a clean, stone-paved floor, where we set up our cots, 
only to be awakened many times during the night 
by passing caravans anxious to avoid the terrible 
heat of the desert by day. 

Where the oases are only a few miles apart one 
often travels by day, but when crossing the desert 
is a matter of eight or ten hours' steady jogging with 
no places to rest, no water, no shade, the pack ani- 
mals suffer greatly. Consequently, most caravans 
travel, so far as possible, by night. Our first desert, 
the pampa of Sihuas, was reported to be narrow, so 
we preferred to cross it by day and see what was to 
be seen. We got up about half-past four and were 
off before seven. Then our troubles began. Either 
because he lived in Arequipa or because they 


thought he looked like a good horseman, or for 
reasons best known to themselves, the Tejadas had 
given Mr. Hinckley a very spirited saddle-mule. 
The first thing I knew, her rider, carrying a heavy 
camera, a package of plate-holders, and a large 
mercurial barometer, borrowed from the Harvard 
Observatory, was pitched headlong into the sand. 
Fortunately no damage was done, and after a lively 
chase the runaway mule was brought back by Cor- 
poral Gamarra. After Mr. Hinckley was remounted 
on his dangerous mule we rode on for a while in 
peace, between cornfields and vineyards, over paths 
flanked by willows and fig trees. The chief industry 
of Vitor is the making of wine from vines which date 
back to colonial days. The wine is aged in huge jars, 
each over six feet high, buried in the ground. We 
had a glimpse of seventeen of them standing in 
a line, awaiting sale. It made one think of AH 
Baba and the Forty Thieves, who would have had 
no trouble at all hiding in these Cyclopean crocks. 
The edge of the oasis of Vitor is the contour line 
along which the irrigating canal runs. There is no 
gradual petering out of foliage. The desert begins 
with a stunning crash. On one side is the bright, 
luxurious green of fig trees and vineyards; on the 
other side is the absolute stark nakedness of the 
sandy desert. Within the oasis there is an abund- 
ance of water. Much of it runs to waste. The wine 
growers receive more than they can use; in fact, 
more land could easily be put under cultivation. 
The chief difficulties are the scarcity of ports from 
which produce can be shipped to the outer world, 


the expense of the transportation system of pack 
trains over the deserts which intervene between the 
oases and the railroad, and the lack of capital. 
Otherwise the irrigation system might be extended 
over great stretches of rich, volcanic soil, now un- 

A steady climb of three quarters of an hour took 
us to the northern rim of the valley. Here we again 
saw the snowy mass of Coropuna, glistening in the 
sunlight, seventy-five miles away to the northwest. 
Our view was a short one, for in less than three min- 
utes we had to descend another canyon. We crossed 
this and climbed out on the pampa of Sihuas. There 
was little to interest us in our immediate surround- 
ings, but in the distance was Coropuna, and I had 
just begun to study the problem of possible routes 
for climbing the highest peak when Mr. Hinckley's 
mule trotted briskly across the trail directly in front 
of me, kicked up her heels, and again sent him 
sprawling over the sand, barometer, camera, plates, 
and all. Unluckily, this time his foot caught in a 
stirrup and, still holding the bridle, he was dragged 
some distance before he got it loose. He struggled to 
his feet and tried to keep the mule from running 
away, when a violent kick released his hold and 
knocked him out. We immediately set up our little 
"Mummery" tent on the hot, sandy floor of the 
desert and rendered first-aid to the unlucky astrono- 
mer. We found that the sharp point of one of the 
vicious mule's new shoes had opened a large vein in 
Mr. Hinckley's leg. The cut was not dangerous, but 
too deep for successful mountain climbing. With 


Gamarra's aid, Mr. Hinckley was able to reach Are- 
quipa that night, but his enforced departure not 
only shattered his own hopes of climbing Coropuna, 
but also made us wonder how we were going to 
have the necessary three-men-on-the-rope when we 
reached the glaciers. To be sure, there was the 
corporal — but would he go? Indians do not like 
snow mountains. Packing up the tent again, we 
resumed our course over the desert. 

The oasis of Sihuas, another beautiful garden in 
the bottom of a huge canyon, was reached about 
four o'clock in the afternoon. We should have been 
compelled to camp in the open with the arrieros 
had not the parish priest invited us to rest in the 
cool shade of his vine-covered arbor. He graciously 
served us with cakes and sweet native wine, and 
asked us to stay as long as we liked. The desert of 
Majes, which now lay ahead of us, is perhaps the 
widest, hottest, and most barren in this region. Our 
arrieros were unwilling to cross it in the daytime. 
They said it was forty-five miles between water and 
water. The next day we enjoyed the hospitality of 
our kindly host until after supper. 

So sure are the inhabitants of these oases that it 
is not going to rain that their houses are built merely 
as a shelter against the sun and wind. They are 
made of the canes that grow in the jungles of the 
larger river bottoms, or along the banks of irrigating 
ditches. On the roof the spaces between the canes 
are filled with adobe, sun-dried mud. It is not nec- 
essary to plaster the sides of the houses, for it is 
pleasant to let the air have free play, and it is amus- 


ing to look out through the cracks and see every- 
thing that is passing. 

That evening we saddled in the moonlight. Slowly 
we climbed out of the valley, to spend the night 
jogging steadily, hour after hour, across the desert. 
As the moon was setting we entered a hilly region, 
and at sunrise found ourselves in the midst of a 
tumbled mass of enormous sand dunes — the result 
of hundreds of medanos blown across the pampa of 
Majes and deposited along the border of the valley. 
It took us three hours to wind slowly down from 
the level of the desert to a point where we could see 
the great canyon, a mile deep and two miles across. 
Its steep sides are of various colored rocks and sand. 
The bottom is a bright green oasis through which 
flows the rapid Majes River, too deep to be forded 
even in the dry season. A very large part of the flood 
plain of the unruly river is not cultivated, and con- 
sists of a wild jungle, difficult of access in the dry 
season and impossible when the river rises during 
the rainy months. The contrast between the gi- 
gantic hills of sand and the luxurious vegetation was 
very striking; but to us the most beautiful thing in 
the landscape was the long, glistening, white mass of 
Coropuna, now much larger and just visible above 
the opposite rim of the valley. 

At eight o'clock in the morning, as we were won- 
dering how long it would be before we could get 
down to the bottom of the valley and have some 
breakfast, we discovered, at a place called Pitas (or 
Cerro Colorado), a huge volcanic boulder covered 
with rude pictographs. Further search in the vicin- 


ity revealed about one hundred of these boulders, 
each with its quota of crude drawings. I did not 
notice any ruins of houses near the rocks. Neither 
of the Tejada brothers, who had been past here 
many times, nor any of the natives of this region 
appeared to have any idea of the origin or meaning 
of this singular collection of pictographic rocks. 
The drawings represented jaguars, birds, men, and 
dachshund-like dogs. They deserved careful study. 
Yet not even the interest and excitement of investi- 
gating the "rocas jeroglificos,'' as they are called 
here, could make us forget that we had had no food 
or sleep for a good many hours. So after taking a 
few pictures we hastened on and crossed the Majes 
River on a very shaky temporary bridge. It was 
built to last only during the dry season. To con- 
struct a bridge which would withstand floods is not 
feasible at present. We spent the day at Coriri, a 
pleasant little village where it was almost impossible 
to sleep, on account of the myriads of gnats. 

The next day we had a short ride along the wes- 
tern side of the valley to the town of Aplao, the 
capital of the province of Castilla, called by its 
present inhabitants "Majes," although on Rai- 
mondi's map that name is applied only to the river 
and the neighboring desert. In 1865, at the time of 
his visit, it had a bad reputation for disease. Now 
it seems more healthy. The sub-prefect of Castilla 
had been informed by telegraph of our coming, and 
invited us to an excellent dinner. 

The people of Majes are largely of mixed white 
and Indian ancestry. Many of them appeared to 


be unusually businesslike. The proprietor of one 
establishment was a great admirer of American 
shoes, the name of which he pronounced in a man- 
ner that puzzled us for a long time. "W" is un- 
known in Spanish and the letters "a," "1," and "k" 
are never found in juxtaposition. When he asked us 
what we thought of "Valluck-ofair','' accenting 
strongly the last syllable, we could not imagine 
what he meant. He was equally at a loss to under- 
stand how we could be so stupid as not to recognize 
immediately the well-advertised name of a widely 
known shoe. 

At Majes we observed cotton, which is sent to 
the mills at Arequipa, alfalfa, highly prized as 
fodder for pack animals, sugar cane, from which 
aguardiente, or white rum, is made, and grapes. It is 
said that the Majes vineyards date back to the six- 
teenth century, and that some of the huge, buried, 
earthenware wine jars now in use were made as far 
back as the reign of Philip II. The presence of so 
much wine in the community does not seem to have 
a deleterious effect on the natives, who were not 
only hospitable but energetic — far more so, in 
fact, than the natives of towns in the high Andes, 
where the intense cold and the difficulty of making a 
living have reacted upon the Indians, often causing 
them to be morose, sullen, and without ambition. 
The residences of the wine growers are sometimes 
very misleading. A typical country house of the 
better class is not much to look at. Its long, low, 
flat roof and rough, un whitewashed, mud-colored 
walls give it an unattractive appearance; yet to 


one's intense surprise the inside may be clean and 
comfortable, with modern furniture, a piano, and 
a phonograph. 

Our conscientious and hard-working arrieros rose 
at two o'clock the next morning, for they knew their 
mules had a long, hard climb ahead of them, from an 
elevation of 1000 feet above sea level to 10,000 feet. 
After an all-day journey we camped at a place where 
forage could be obtained. We had now left the re- 
gion of tropical products and come back to pota- 
toes and barley. The following day a short ride 
brought us past another pictographic rock, recently 
blasted open by an energetic "treasure seeker" of 
Chuquibamba. This town has 3000 inhabitants 
and is the capital of the province of Condesuyos. 
It was the place which we had selected several 
months before as the rendezvous for the attack on 
Coropuna. The climate here is delightful and the 
fruits and cereals of the temperate zone are easily 
raised. The town is surrounded by gardens, vine- 
yards, alfalfa and grain fields; all showing evidence 
of intensive cultivation. It is at the head of one of 
the branches of the Majes Valley and is surrounded 
by high cliffs. 

The people of Chuquibamba were friendly. We 
were kindly welcomed by Seiior Benavides, the sub- 
prefect, who hospitably told us to set up our cots in 
the grand salon of his own house. Here we received 
calls from the local officials, including the provincial 
physician, Dr. Pastor, and the director of the Cole- 
gio Nacional, Professor Alejandro Coello. The last 
two were keen to go with us up Mt. Coropuna. 


They told us that there was a hill near by called the 
Calvario, whence the mountain could be seen, and 
offered to take us up there. We accepted, thinking 
at the same time that this would show who was best 
fitted to join in the climb, for we needed another 
man on the rope. Professor Coello easily distanced 
the rest of us and won the coveted place. 

From the Calvario hill we had a splendid view of 
those white solitudes whither we were bound, now 
only twenty-five miles away. It seemed clear that 
the western or truncated peak, which gives its name 
to the mass (koro = "cut off at the top"; puna = 
**a cold, snowy height"), was the highest point of 
the range, and higher than all the eastern peaks. 
Yet behind the flat- topped dome we could just make 
out a northerly peak. Tucker wondered whether or 
not that might prove to be higher than the western 
peak which we decided to climb. No one knew any- 
thing about the mountain. There were no native 
guides to be had. The wildest opinions were ex- 
pressed as to the best routes and methods of getting 
to the top. We finally engaged a man who said he 
knew how to get to the foot of the mountain, so we 
called him "guide" for want of a more appropriate 
title. The Peruvian spring was now well advanced 
and the days were fine and clear. It appeared, how- 
ever, that there had been a heavy snowstorm on the 
mountain a few days before. If summer were com- 
ing unusually early it behooved us to waste no time, 
and we proceeded to arrange the mountain equip- 
ment as fast as possible. 

Our instruments for determining altitude con- 


sisted of a special mountain-mercurial barometer 
made by Mr. Henry J. Green, of Brooklyn, capable 
of recording only such air pressures as one might 
expect to find above 12,000 feet; a hypsometer 
loaned us by the Department of Terrestrial Mag- 
netism of the Carnegie Institution of Washington, 
with thermometers especially made for us by Green ; 
a large mercurial barometer, borrowed from the 
Harvard Observatory, which, notwithstanding its 
rough treatment by Mr. Hinckley's mule, was still 
doing good service; and one of Green's sling psy- 
chrometers. Our most serious want was an aneroid, 
in case the fragile mercurials should get broken. 
Six months previously I had written to J. Hicks, 
the celebrated instrument maker of London, asking 
him to construct, with special care, two large 
"Watkins" aneroids capable of recording altitudes 
five thousand feet higher than Coropuna was sup- 
posed to be. His reply had never reached me, nor 
did any one in Arequipa know anything about the 
barometers. Apparently my letter had miscarried. 
It was not until we opened our specially ordered 
"mountain grub" boxes here in Chuquibamba that 
we found, alongside of the pemmican and self-heat- 
ing tins of stew which had been packed for us in 
London by Grace Brothers, the two precious aner- 
oids, each as large as a big alarm clock. With these 
two new aneroids, made with a wide margin of 
safety, we felt satisfied that, once at the summit, 
we should know whether there was a chance that 
Bandelier was right and this was indeed the top of 


For exact measurements we depended on Topog- 
rapher Hendriksen, who was due to triangulate 
Coropuna in the course of his survey along the 73d 
meridian. My chief excuse for going up the moun- 
tain was to erect a signal at or near the top which 
Hendriksen could use as a station in order to make 
his triangulation more exact. My real object, it 
must be confessed, was to enjoy the satisfaction, 
which all Alpinists feel, of conquering a "virgin 



THE desert plateau above Chuquibamba is nearly 
2500 feet higher than the town, and it was nine 
o'clock on the morning of October loth before we 
got out of the valley. Thereafter Coropuna was 
always in sight, and as we slowly approached it we 
studied it with care. The plateau has an elevation 
of over 15,000 feet, yet the mountain stood out 
conspicuously above it. Coropuna is really a range 
about twenty miles long. Its gigantic massif was 
covered with snow fields from one end to the other. 
So deep did the fresh snow lie that it was generally 
impossible to see where snow fields ended and gla- 
ciers began. We could see that of the five well- 
defined peaks the middle one was probably the low- 
est. The two next highest are at the right, or east- 
em, end of the massif. The culminating truncated 
dome at the western end, with its smooth, uneroded 
sides, apparently belonged to a later volcanic period 
than the rest of the mountain. It seemed to be the 
highest peak of all. To reach it did not appear to be 
difficult. Rock-covered slopes ran directly up to the 
snow. Snow fields, without many rock-falls, ap- 
peared to culminate in a saddle at the base of the 
great snowy dome. The eastern slope of the dome 
itself offered an unbroken, if steep, path to the top. 
If we could once reach the snow line, it looked as 


though, with the aid of ice-creepers or snowshoes, 
we could climb the mountain without serious trouble. 
Between us and the first snow-covered slopes, 
however, lay more than twenty miles of volcanic 
desert intersected by deep canyons, steep quebradas, 
and very rough aa lava. Directed by our "guide," 
we left the Cotahuasi road and struck across 
country, dodging the lava flows and slowly ascend- 
ing the gentle slope of the plateau. As it became 
steeper our mules showed signs of suffering. While 
waiting for them to get their wind we went ahead on 
foot, climbed a short rise, and to our surprise and 
chagrin found ourselves on the rim of a steep-walled 
canyon, 1500 feet deep, which cut right across in 
front of the mountain and lay between us and its 
higher slopes. After the mules had rested, the guide 
now decided to turn to the left instead of going 
straight toward the mountain. A dispute ensued as 
to how much he knew, even about the foot of Coro- 
puna. He denied that there were any huts what- 
ever in the canyon. ^'Abandonado; despoblado; de- 
sierto." "A waste; a solitude; a wilderness." So he 
described it. Had he been there? "No, Senor." 
Luckily we had been able to make out from the rim 
of the canyon two or three huts near a little stream. 
As there was no question that we ought to get to the 
snow line as soon as possible, we decided to dispense 
with the services of so well-informed a "guide," and 
make such way as we could alone. The altitude of 
the rim of the canyon was 16,000 feet; the mules 
showed signs of acute distress from mountain sick- 
ness. The arrieros began to complain loudly, but 


did what they could to relieve the mules by punch- 
ing holes in their ears ; the theory being that blood- 
letting is a good thing for soroche. As soon as the 
timid arrieros reached a point where they could see 
down into the canyon, they spotted some patches 
of green pasture, cheered up a bit, and even smiled 
over the dismal ignorance of the "guide." Soon we 
found a trail which led to the huts. 

Near the huts was a taciturn Indian woman, who 
refused to furnish us with either fuel or forage, 
although we tried to pay in advance and offered her 
silver. Nevertheless, we proceeded to pitch our 
tents and took advantage of the sheltering stone 
wall of her corral for our camp fire. After peace had 
settled down and it became perfectly evident that 
we were harmless, the door of one of the huts opened 
and an Indian man appeared. Doubtless the cause 
of his disappearance before our arrival had been the 
easily discernible presence in our midst of the brass 
buttons of Corporal Gamarra. Possibly he who had 
selected this remote corner of the wilderness for his 
abode had a guilty conscience and at the sight of a 
gendarme decided that he had better hide at once. 
More probably, however, he feared the visit of a 
recruiting party, since it is quite likely that he had 
not served his legal term of military service. At all 
events, when his wife discovered that we were not 
looking for her man, she allowed his curiosity to 
overcome his fears. We found that the Indians kept 
a few llamas. They also made crude pottery, firing 
it with straw and llama dung. They lived almost 
entirely on gruel made from chuno, frozen bitter 


potatoes. Little else than potatoes will grow at 
14,000 feet above the sea. For neighbors the In- 
dians had a solitary old man, who lived half a mile 
up nearer the glaciers, and a small family, a mile 
and a half down the valley. 

Before dark the neighbors came to call, and we 
tried our best to persuade the men to accompany us 
up the mountain and help to carry the loads from 
the point where the mules would have to stop ; but 
they declined absolutely and positively. I think one 
of the men might have gone, but as soon as his quiet, 
well-behaved wife saw him wavering she broke out 
in a torrent of violent denunciation, telling him the 
mountain would "eat him up" and that unless he 
wanted to go to heaven before his time he had better 
let well enough alone and stay where he was. Cieza 
de Leon, one of the most careful of the early chron- 
iclers (1550), says that at Coropuna "the devil" 
talks "more freely" than usual. "For some secret 
reason known to God, it is said that devils walk 
visibly about in that place, and that the Indians see 
them and are much terrified. I have also heard that 
these devils have appeared to Christians in the form 
of Indians." Perhaps the voluble housewife was her- 
self one of the famous Coropuna devils. She cer- 
tainly talked "more freely" than usual. Or possibly 
she thought that the Coropuna "devils" were now 
appearing to Indians "in the form of" Christians! 
Anyhow the Indians said that on top of Coropuna 
there was a delightful, warm paradise containing 
beautiful flowers, luscious fruits, parrots of brilliant 
plumage, macaws, and even monkeys, those faithful 


denizens of hot climates. The souls of the departed 
stop to rest and enjoy themselves in this charming 
spot on their upward flight. Like most primitive 
people who live near snow-capped mountains, they 
had an abject terror of the forbidding summits and 
the snowstorms that seem to come down from them. 
Probably the Indians hope to propitiate the de- 
mons who dwell on the mountain tops by invent- 
ing charming stories relating to their abode. It is in- 
teresting to learn that in the neighboring hamlet of 
Pampacolca, the great explorer Raimondi, in 1865, 
found the natives "exiled from the civilized world, 
still preserving their primitive customs . . . carry- 
ing idols to the slopes of the great snow mountain 
Coropuna, and there offering them as a sacrifice." 
Apparently the mountain still inspires fear in the 
hearts of all those who live near it. 

The fact that we agreed to pay in advance 
unheard-of wages, ten times the usual amount 
earned by laborers in this vicinity, that we added 
offers of the precious coca leaves, the greatly-to-be- 
desired "fire-water," the rarely seen tobacco, and 
other good things usually coveted by Peruvian 
highlanders, had no effect in the face of the terrors 
of the mountain. They knew only too well that 
snow-blindness was one of the least of ills to be 
encountered; while the advantages of dark-colored 
glasses, warm clothes, kerosene stoves, and plenty 
of good food, which we freely offered, were far too 
remote from the realm of credible possibilities. 
Professor Coello understood all these matters per- 
fectly and, being able to speak Quichua, the Ian- 


guage of our prospective carriers, did his best in the 
way of argument, not only out of loyalty to the 
Expedition, but because Peruvian gentlemen always 
regard the carrying of a load as extremely undig- 
nified and improper. I have known one of the 
most energetic and efficient business men in Peru, 
a highly respected gentleman in a mountain city, 
so to dislike being obliged to carry a rolled and un- 
mounted photograph, little larger than a lead pencil, 
that he sent for a cargador, an Indian porter, to 
bear it for him ! 

As a matter of fact. Professor Coello was per- 
fectly willing to do his share and more ; but neither 
he nor we were anxious to climb with heavy packs on 
our backs, in the rarefied air of elevations several 
thousand feet higher than Mont Blanc. The argu- 
ment with the Indians was long and verbose and the 
offerings of money and goods were made more and 
more generous. All was in vain. We finally came to 
realize that whatever supplies and provisions were 
carried up Coropuna would have to be borne on our 
own shoulders. That evening the top of the trun- 
cated dome, which was just visible from the valley 
near our camp, was bathed in a roseate Alpine glow, 
unspeakably beautiful. The air, however, was very 
bitter and the neighboring brook froze solid. Dur- 
ing the night the gendarme's mule became homesick 
and disappeared with Coello's horse. Gamarra was 
sent to look for the strays, with orders to follow us 
as soon as possible. 

As no bearers or carriers were to be secured, it was 
essential to persuade the Tejadas to take their pack 


mules up as far as the snow, a feat they declined to 
do. The mules, Don Pablo said, had already gone as 
far as and farther than mules had any business to go. 
Soon after reaching camp Tucker had gone off on a 
reconnaissance. He reported that there was a path 
leading out of the canyon up to the llama pastures 
on the lower slopes of the mountains. The arrieros 
denied the accuracy of his observations. However, 
after a long argument, they agreed to go as far as 
there was a good path, and no farther. There was 
no question of our riding. It was simply a case of 
getting the loads as high up as possible before we 
had to begin to carry them ourselves. It may be 
imagined that the arrieros packed very slowly and 
grudgingly, although the loads were now consider- 
ably reduced. Finally, leaving behind our saddles, 
ordinary supplies, and everything not considered 
absolutely necessary for a two weeks' stay on the 
mountain, we set off. 

We could easily walk faster than the loaded 
mules, and thought it best to avoid trouble by 
keeping far enough ahead so as not to hear the 
arrieros' constant complaints. After an hour of not 
very hard climbing over a fairly good llama trail, the 
Tejadas stopped at the edge of the pastures and 
shouted to us to come back. We replied equally 
vociferously, calling them to come ahead, which 
they did for half an hour more, slowly zigzagging 
up a slope of coarse, black volcanic sand. Then 
they not only stopped but commenced to unload the 
mules. It was necessary to rush back and com- 
mence a violent and acrimonious dispute as to 


whether the letter of the contract had been fulfilled 
and the mules had gone " as far as they could reason- 
ably be expected to go." The truth was, the Teja- 
das were terrified at approaching mysterious Coro- 
puna. They were sure it would take revenge on 
them by destroying their mules, who would "cer- 
tainly die the following day of soroche'' We offered 
a bonus of thirty soles — fifteen dollars — if they 
would go on for another hour, and threatened them 
with all sorts of things if they would not. At last 
they readjusted the loads and started climbing 

The altitude was now about 16,000 feet, but at 
the foot of a steep little rise the arrieros stopped 
again. This time they succeeded in unloading two 
mules before we could scramble down over the sand 
and boulders to stop them. Threats and prayers 
were now of no avail. The only thing that would 
satisfy was a legal document! They demanded an 
agreement "in writing" that in case any mule or 
mules died as a result of this foolish attempt to 
get up to the snow line, I should pay in gold two 
hundred soles for each and every mule that died. 
Further, I must agree to pay a bonus of fifty soles 
if they would keep climbing until noon or until 
stopped by snow. This document, having been duly 
drawn up by Professor Coello, seated on a lava rock 
amidst the clinkerlike cinders of the old volcano, was 
duly signed and sealed. In order that there might 
be no dispute as to the time, my best chronometer 
was handed over to Pablo Tejada to carry until 
noon. The mules were reloaded and again the ascent 


began. Presently the mules encountered some 
pretty bad going, on a steep slope covered with 
huge lava boulders and scoriaceous sand. We ex- 
pected more trouble every minute. However, the 
arrieros, having made an advantageous bargain, did 
their best to carry it out. Fortunately the mules 
reached the snow line just fifteen minutes before 
twelve o'clock. The Tejadas lost no time in unload- 
ing, claimed their bonus, promised to return in ten 
days, and almost before we knew it had disappeared 
down the side of the mountain. 

We spent the afternoon establishing our Base 
Camp. We had three tents, the "Mummery," a 
very light and diminutive wall tent about four feet 
high, made by Edgington of London; an ordinary 
wall tent, 7 by 7, of fairly heavy material, with floor 
sewed in ; and an improved pyramidal tent, made by 
David Abercrombie, but designed by Mr. Tucker 
after one used on Mt. McKinley by Professor 
Parker. Tucker's tent had two openings — a small 
vent in the top of the pyramid, capable of being 
closed by an adjustable cap in case of storm, and an 
oval entrance through which one had to crawl. 
This opening could be closed to any desired extent 
with a pucker string. A fairly heavy, waterproof 
floor, measuring 7 by 7, was sewed to the base of the 
pyramid so that a single pole, without guy ropes, 
was all that was necessary to keep the tent upright 
after the floor had been securely pegged to the 
ground, or snow. Tucker's tent offered the advan- 
tages of being carried without difficulty, easily 
erected by one man, readily ventilated and yet 


giving shelter to four men in any weather. We pro- 
posed to leave the wall tent at the Base, but to take 
the pyramidal tent with us on the climb. We de- 
termined to carry the "Mummery" to the top of 
the mountain to use while taking observations. 

The elevation of the Base Camp was 17,300 feet. 
We were surprised and pleased to find that at first 
we had good appetites and no soroche. Less than a 
hundred yards from the wall tent was a small 
diurnal stream, fed by melting snow. Whenever I 
went to get water for cooking or washing purposes 
I noticed a startling and rapid rise in pulse and 
Increasing shortness of breath. My normal pulse is 
70. After I walked slowly a hundred feet on a level 
at this altitude it rose to 120. After I had been 
seated awhile it dropped down to 100. Gradually 
our sense of well-being departed and was followed by 
a feeling of malaise and general disability. There 
was a splendid sunset, but we were too sick and cold 
to enjoy It. That night all slept badly and had some 
headache. A high wind swept around the mountain 
and threatened to carry away both of our tents. As 
we lay awake, wondering at what moment we 
should find ourselves deserted by the frail canvas 
shelters, we could not help thinking that Coropuna 
was giving us a fair warning of what might happen 
higher up. 

For breakfast we had pemmlcan, hard-tack, pea 
soup and tea. We all wanted plenty of sugar in our 
tea and drank large quantities of it. Experience on 
Mt. McKInley had led Tucker to believe heartily 
in the advantages of pemmlcan, a food especially 

Oh O 


prepared for Arctic explorers. Neither Coello nor 
Gamarra nor I had ever tasted it before. We de- 
cided that it is not very palatable on first acquaint- 
ance. Although doubtless of great value when one 
has to spend long periods of time in the Arctic, 
where even seal's blubber is a delicacy "as good as 
cow's creanij" I presume we could have done just 
as well without it. 

It was decided to carry with us from the Base 
enough fuel and supplies to last through any pos- 
sible misadventure, even of a week's duration. 
Accounts of climbs in the high Andes are full of 
failures due to the necessity of the explorers' being 
obliged to return to food, warmth, and shelter 
before having effected the conquest of a new peak. 
One remembers the frequent disappointments that 
came to such intrepid climbers as Whymper in 
Ecuador, Martin Conway in Bolivia and Fitzgerald 
in Chile and Argentina, due to high winds, the 
sudden advent of terrific snowstorms and the weak- 
ness caused by soroche. At the cost of carrying 
extra-heavy loads we determined to try to avoid 
being obliged to turn back. We could only hope 
that no unforeseen event would finally defeat our 

Tucker decided to establish a cache of food and 
fuel as far up the mountain side as he and Coello 
could carry fifty pounds in a single day's climb. 
Leaving me to reset the demoralized tents and do 
other chores, they started off, packing loads of 
about twenty-five pounds each. To me their prog- 
ress up the mountain side seemed extraordinarily 


slow. Were they never going to get anywhere? 
Their frequent stops seemed ludicrous. I was to 
learn later that it is as difficult at a high elevation 
for one who is not climbing to have any sympathy 
for those suffering from soroche as it is for a sailor 
to appreciate the sensations of one who is seasick. 

During the morning I set up the barometers and 
took a series of observations. It was pleasant to 
note that the two new mountain aneroids registered 
exactly alike. All the different units of the cargo 
that was to be taken up the mountain then had to be 
weighed, so that they might be equitably distributed 
in our loads the following day. We had two small 
kerosene stoves with Primus burners. Our grub, 
ordered months before, specially for this climb, con- 
sisted of pemmican in 8^ -pound tins. Kola choco- 
late in half-pound tins, seeded raisins in i -pound 
tins, cube sugar in 4-pound tins, hard-tack in 6^- 
pound tins, jam, sticks of dried pea soup, Plasmon 
biscuit, tea, and a few of Silver's self-heating "mess- 
tins" containing Irish stew, beef k la mode, et al. 
Corporal Gamarra appeared during the day, having 
found his mule, which had strayed twelve miles 
down the canyon. He did not relish the prospect of 
climbing Coropuna, but when he saw the warm 
clothes which we had provided for him and learned 
that he would get a bonus of five gold sovereigns on 
top of the mountain, he decided to accept his duties 

Tucker and Coello returned in the middle of the 
afternoon, reported that there seemed to be no seri- 
ous difficulties in the first part of the climb and that 


a cache had been established about 2000 feet above 
the Base Camp, on a snow field. Tucker now as- 
signed our packs for the morrow and skillfully pre- 
pared the tump-lines and harness with which we 
were to carry them. 

Notwithstanding an unusual headache which 
lasted all day long, I still had some appetite. Our 
supper consisted of pemmican pudding with raisins, 
hard-tack and pea soup, which every one was able to 
eat, if not to enjoy. That night we slept better, one 
reason being that the wind did not blow as hard as it 
had the night before. The weather continued fine. 
Watkins was due to arrive from Arequipa in a day 
or two, but we decided not to wait for him or run any 
further risk of encountering an early summer snow- 
storm. The next morning, after adjusting our fifty- 
pound loads to our unaccustomed backs, we left 
camp about nine o'clock. We wore Appalachian 
Mountain Club snow-creepers, or crampons, heavy 
Scotch mittens, knit woolen helmets, dark blue 
snow-glasses, and very heavy clothing. It will be 
remembered by visitors to the Zermatt Museum 
that the Swiss guides who once climbed Huascaran, 
in the northern Peruvian Andes, had been maimed 
for life by their experiences in the deep snows of 
those great altitudes. We determined to take no 
chances, and in order to prevent the possibility of 
frost-bite each man was ordered to put on four pairs 
of heavy woolen socks and two or three pairs of 
heavy underdrawers. 

Professor Coello and Corporal Gamarra wore 
large, heavy boots. I had woolen puttees and 


"Arctic" overshoes. Tucker improvised what he 
regarded as highly satisfactory sandals out of felt 
slippers and pieces of a rubber poncho. Since there 
seemed to be no rock-climbing ahead of us, we 
decided to depend on crampons rather than on the 
heavy hob-nailed climbing boots with which Alpin- 
ists are familiar. 

The snow was very hard until about one o'clock. 
By three o'clock it was so soft as to make further 
progress impossible. We found that, loaded as we 
were, we could not climb a gentle rise faster than 
twenty steps at a time. On the more level snow 
fields we took twenty-five or thirty steps before 
stopping to rest. At the end of each stint it seemed 
as though they would be the last steps we should 
ever take. Panting violently, fatigued beyond 
belief, and overcome with mountain-sickness, we 
would stop and lean on our ice axes until able to 
take twenty-five steps more. 

It did not take very long to recover one's wind. 
Finally we reached a glacier marked by a network of 
crevasses, none very wide, and nearly all covered 
with snow-bridges. We were roped together, and 
although there was an occasional fall no great strain 
was put on the rope. Then came great snow fields 
with not a single crevasse. For the most part our 
day was simply an unending succession of stints — 
twenty-five steps and a rest, repeated four or five 
times and followed by thirty-five steps and a longer 
rest, taken lying down in the snow. We pegged 
along until about half-past two, when the rapidly 
melting snow stopped all progress. At an altitude 


of about 18,450 feet, the Tucker tent was pitched on 
a fairly level snow field. We now noticed with dis- 
may that the two big aneroids had begun to differ. 
As the sun declined the temperature fell rapidly. 
At half-past five the thermometer stood at 22° F. 
During the night the minimum thermometer reg- 
istered 9° F. We noticed a considerable number 
of lightning flashes in the northeast. They were 
not accompanied by any thunder, but alarmed us 
considerably. We feared the expected November 
storms might be ahead of time. We closed the tent 
door on account of a biting wind. Owing to the 
ventilating device at the top of the tent, we man- 
aged to breathe fairly well. Mountain climbers at 
high altitudes have occasionally observed that one 
of the symptoms of acute soroche is a very annoying, 
racking cough, as violent as whooping cough and 
frequently accompanied by nausea. We had not 
experienced this at 17,000 feet, but now it began to 
be painfully noticeable, and continued during the 
ensuing days and nights, particularly nights, until 
we got back to the Indians' huts again. We slept 
very poorly and continually awakened one another 
by coughing. 

The next morning we had very little appetite, no 
ambition, and a miserable sense of malaise and great 
fatigue. There was nothing for it but to shoulder 
our packs, arrange our tump-lines, and proceed with 
the same steady drudgery — now a little harder 
than the day before. We broke camp at half-past 
seven and by noon had reached an altitude of about 
20,000 feet, on a snow field within a mile of the 


saddle between the great truncated peak and the 
rest of the range. It looked possible to reach the 
summit in one more day's climb from here. The 
aneroids now differed by over five hundred feet. 
Leaving me to pitch the tent, the others went back 
to the cache to bring up some of the supplies. Due 
to the fact that we were carrying loads twice as 
heavy as those which Tucker and Coello had first 
brought up, we had not passed their cache until 
to-day. By the time my companions appeared 
again I was so completely rested that I marveled at 
the snail-like pace they made over the nearly level 
snow field. It seemed incredible that they should 
find it necessary to rest four times after they were 
within one hundred yards of the camp. 

We were none of us hungry that evening. We 
craved sweet tea. Before turning in for the night 
we took the trouble to melt snow and make a potful 
of tea which could be warmed up the first thing in 
the morning. We passed another very bad night. 
The thermometer registered 7° F., but we did not 
suffer from the cold. In fact, when you stow away 
four men on the floor of a 7 by 7 tent they are obliged 
to sleep so close together as to keep warm. Further- 
more, each man had an eiderdown sleeping-bag, 
blankets, and plenty of heavy clothes and sweaters. 
We did, however, suffer from soroche. Violent 
whooping cough assailed us at frequent intervals. 
None of us slept much. I amused myself by count- 
ing my pulse occasionally, only to find that it 
persistently refused to go below 120, and if I moved 
would jump up to 135. I don't know where it went 


on the actual climb. So far as I could determine, it 
did not go below 120 for four days and nights. 

On the morning of October 15th we got up at 
three o'clock. Hot sweet tea was the one thing we all 
craved. The tea-pot was found to be frozen solid, 
although it had been hung up in the tent. It took an 
hour to thaw and the tea was just warm enough for 
practical purposes when I made an awkward move 
in the crowded tent and kicked over the tea-pot! 
Never did men keep their tempers better under 
more aggravating circumstances. Not a word of re- 
proach or indignation greeted my clumsy accident, 
although poor Corporal Gamarra, who was lying 
on the down side of the tent, had to beat a hasty 
retreat into the colder (but somewhat drier) weather 
outside. My clumsiness necessitated a delay of 
nearly an hour in starting. While we were melting 
more frozen snow and re-making the tea, we warmed 
up some pea soup and Irish stew. Tucker and I 
managed to eat a little. Coello and Gamarra had no 
stomachs for anything but tea. We decided to leave 
the Tucker tent at the 20,000 foot level, together 
with most of our outfit and provisions. From here 
to the top we were to carry only such things as were 
absolutely necessary. They included the Mummery 
tent with pegs and poles, the mountain-mercurial 
barometer, the two Watkins aneroids, the hypsom- 
eter, a pair of Zeiss glasses, two 3A kodaks, six 
films, a sling psychrometer, a prismatic compass and 
clinometer, a Stanley pocket level, an eighty-foot 
red-strand mountain rope, three ice axes, a seven- 
foot flagpole, an American flag and a Yale flag. In 


order to avoid disaster in case of storm, we also 
carried four of Silver's self -heating cans of Irish 
stew and mock-turtle soup, a cake of chocolate, and 
eight hard-tack, besides raisins and cubes of sugar 
in our pockets. Our loads weighed about twenty 
pounds each. 

To our great satisfaction and relief, the weather 
continued fine and there was very little wind. On 
the preceding afternoon the snow had been so soft 
one frequently went in over one's knees, but now 
everything was frozen hard. We left camp at five 
o'clock. It was still dark. The great dome of Coro- 
puna loomed up on our left, cut off from direct 
attack by gigantic ice falls. To reach it we must 
first surmount the saddle on the main ridge. From 
there an apparently unbroken slope extended to the 
top. Our progress was distressingly slow, even with 
the light loads. When we reached the saddle there 
came a painful surprise. To the north of us loomed 
a great snowy cone, the peak which we had at first 
noticed from the Chuquibamba Calvario. Now it 
actually looked higher than the dome we were about 
to climb! From the Sihuas Desert, eighty miles 
away, the dome had certainly seemed to be the 
highest point. So we stuck to our task, although 
constantly facing the possibility that our painful 
labors might be in vain and that eventually, this 
north peak would prove to be higher. We began to 
doubt whether we should have strength enough for 
both. Loss of sleep, soroche, and lack of appetite 
were rapidly undermining our endurance. 

The last slope had an inclination of thirty degrees. 


We should have had to cut steps with our ice axes 
all the way up had it not been for our snow-creepers, 
which worked splendidly. As it was, not more than a 
dozen or fifteen steps actually had to be cut even in 
the steepest part. Tucker was first on the rope, I 
was second, Coello third, and Gamarra brought up 
the rear. We were not a very gay party. The high 
altitude was sapping all our ambition. I found that 
an occasional lump of sugar acted as the best rapid 
restorative to sagging spirits. It was astonishing 
how quickly the carbon in the sugar was absorbed 
by the system and came to the relief of smoldering 
bodily fires. A single cube gave new strength and 
vigor for several minutes. Of course, one could not 
eat sugar without limit, but it did help to tide over 
difficult places. 

We zigzagged slowly up, hour after hour, alter- 
nately resting and climbing, until we were about to 
reach what seemed to be the top, obviously, alas, 
not as high as our enemy to the north. Just then 
Tucker gave a great shout. The rest of us were too 
much out of breath to ask him why he was wasting 
his strength shouting. When at last we painfully 
came to the edge of what looked like the summit we 
saw the cause of his joy. There, immediately ahead 
of us, lay another slope three hundred feet higher 
than where we were standing. It may seem strange 
that in our weakened condition we should have been 
glad to find that we had three hundred feet more to 
climb. Remember, however, that all the morning 
we had been gazing with dread at that aggravating 
north peak. Whenever we had had a moment to 


give to the consideration of anything but the im- 
mediate difficulties of our climb our hearts had sunk 
within us at the thought that possibly, after all, we 
might find the north peak higher. The fact that 
there lay before us another three hundred feet, 
which would undoubtedly take us above the highest 
point of that aggravating north peak, was so very 
much the less of two possible evils that we under- 
stood Tucker's shout. Yet none of us was lusty 
enough to echo it. 

With faint smiles and renewed courage we pegged 
along, resting on our ice axes, as usual, every twenty- 
five steps until at last, at half-past eleven, after six 
hours and a half of climbing from the 20,000-foot 
camp, we reached the culminating point of Coro- 
puna. As we approached it, Tucker, although 
naturally much elated at having successfully engi- 
neered the first ascent of this great mountain, 
stopped and with extraordinary courtesy and self- 
abnegation smilingly motioned me to go ahead in 
order that the director of the Expedition might be 
actually the first person to reach the culminating 
point. In order to appreciate how great a sacrifice 
he was willing to make, it should be stated that his 
willingness to come on the Expedition was due 
chiefly to a fondness for mountain climbing and his 
desire to add Coropuna to his sheaf of victories. 
Greatly as I appreciated his kindness in making way 
for me, I could only acquiesce in so far as to con- 
tinue the climb by his side. We reached the top 
together, and sank down to rest and look about. 

The truncated summit is an oval-shaped snow 




field, almost flat, having an area of nearly half an 
acre, about 100 feet north and south and 175 feet 
east and west. If it once were, as we suppose, a 
volcanic crater, the pit had long since been filled up 
with snow and ice. There were no rocks to be seen 
on the rim — only the hard crust of the glistening 
white surface. The view from the top was desolate 
in the extreme. We were in the midst of a great 
volcanic desert dotted with isolated peaks covered 
with snow and occasional glaciers. Not an atom of 
green was to be seen anywhere. Apparently we 
stood on top of a dead world. Mountain climbers 
in the Andes have frequently spoken of seeing con- 
dors at great altitudes. We saw none. Northwest, 
twenty miles away across the Pampa Colorada, a 
reddish desert, rose snow-capped Solimana. In the 
other direction we looked along the range of Coro- 
puna itself; several of the lesser peaks being only a 
few hundred feet below our elevation. Far to the 
southwest we imagined we could see the faint blue 
of the Pacific Ocean, but it was very dim. 

My father was an ardent mountain climber, 
glorying not only in the difficulties of the ascent, 
but particularly in the satisfaction coming from the 
magnificent view to be obtained at the top. His zeal 
had led him once, in winter, to ascend the highest 
peak in the Pacific, Mauna Kea on Hawaii. He 
taught me as a boy to be fond of climbing the moun- 
tains of Oahu and Maui and to be appreciative of the 
views which could be obtained by such expenditure 
of eff"ort. Yet now I could not take the least interest 
or pleasure in the view from the top of Coropuna, 


nor could my companions. No sense of satisfaction 
in having attained a difficult objective cheered us 
up. We all felt greatly depressed and said little, 
although Gamarra asked for his bonus and regarded 
the gold coins with grim complacency. 

After we had rested awhile we began to take 
observations. Unslinging the aneroid which I had 
been carrying, I found to my surprise and dismay 
that the needle showed a height of only 21,525 feet 
above sea level. Tucker's aneroid read more than a 
thousand feet higher, 22,550 feet, but even this fell 
short of Raimondi's estimate of 22,775 feet, and 
considerably below Bandelier's "23,000 feet." This 
was a keen disappointment, for we had hoped that 
the aneroids would at least show a margin over the 
altitude of Mt. Aconcagua, 22,763 feet. This dis- 
covery served to dampen our spirits still further. 
We took what comfort we could from the fact that 
the aneroids, which had checked each other per- 
fectly up to 17,000 feet, were now so obviously un- 
trustworthy. We could only hope that both might 
prove to be inaccurate, as actually happened, and 
that both might now be reading too low. Anyhow, 
the north peak did look lower than we were. To 
satisfy any doubts on this subject, Tucker took the 
wooden box in which we had brought the hypsom- 
eter, laid it on the snow, leveled it up carefully 
with the Stanley pocket level, and took a squint 
over it toward the north peak. He smiled and said 
nothing. So each of us in turn lay down in the snow 
and took a squint. It was all right. We were at 
least 250 feet higher than that aggravating peak. 


We were also 450 feet higher than the east peak of 
Coropuna, and a thousand feet higher than any 
other mountain in sight. At any rate, we should not 
have to call upon our fast-ebbing strength for any 
more hard climbs in the immediate future. After 
arriving at this satisfactory conclusion we pitched 
the little Mummery tent, set up the tripod for the 
mercurial barometer, arranged the boiling point 
thermometer with its apparatus, and with the aid 
of kodaks and notebooks proceeded to take as 
many observations as possible in the next four 
hours. At two o'clock we read the mercurial, know- 
ing that at the same hour readings were being made 
by Watkins at the Base Camp and by the Harvard 
astronomers in the Observatory at Arequipa. The 
barometer was suspended from a tripod set up in the 
shade of the tent. The mercury, which at sea level 
often stands at 31 inches, now stood at 13.838 
inches. The temperature of the thermometer on the 
barometer was exactly +32° F. At the same time, 
inside the tent we got the water to boiling and took 
a reading with the hypsometer. Water boils at sea 
level at a temperature of 212° F. Here it boiled at 
174° F. After taking the reading we greedily drank 
the water which had been heated for the hypsom- 
eter. We were thirsty enough to have drunk five 
times as much. We were not hungry, and made no 
use of our provisions except a few raisins, some 
sugar, and chocolate. 

After completing our observations, we fastened 
the little tent as securely as possible, banking the 
snow around it, and left it on top, first having placed 


in it one of the Appalachian Mountain Club's brass 
record cylinders, in which we had sealed the Yale 
flag, a contemporary map of Peru, and two brief 
statements regarding the ascent. The American flag 
was left flying from a nine-foot pole, which we 
planted at the northwest rim of the dome, where 
it could be seen from the road to Cotahuasi. Here 
Mr. Casimir Watkins saw it a week later and Dr. 
Isaiah Bowman two weeks later. When Chief To- 
pographer Hendriksen arrived three weeks later to 
make his survey, it had disappeared. Probably a 
severe storm had blown it over and buried it in the 

We left the summit at three o'clock and arrived 
at the 20,000 foot camp two hours and fifteen min- 
utes later. The first part of the way down to the 
saddle we attempted a glissade. Then the slope grew 
steeper and we got up too much speed for comfort, 
so we finally had to be content with a slower method 
of locomotion. That night there was very little wind. 
Mountain climbers have more to fear from exces- 
sively high winds than almost any other cause. We 
were very lucky. Nothing occurred to interfere with 
the best progress we were physically capable of 
making. It turned out that we did not need to have 
brought so many supplies with us. In fact, it is an 
open question whether our acute mountain-sickness 
would have permitted us to outlast a long storm, 
or left us enough appetite to use the provisions. Al- 
though one does get accustomed to high altitudes, 
we felt very doubtful. No one in the Western Hemi- 
sphere had ever made night camps at 20,000 feet 


or pitched a tent as high as the summit of Coropuna. 
The severity of mountain-sickness differs greatly in 
different localities, apparently not depending en- 
tirely on the altitude. I do not know how long we 
could have stood it. It is difficult to believe that 
with strength enough to achieve the climb we should 
have felt as weak and ill as we did. 

That night, although we were very weary, none 
of us slept much. The violent whooping cough con- 
tinued and all of us were nauseated again in the 
morning. We felt so badly and were able to take so 
little nourishment that it was determined to get to 
a lower altitude as fast as possible. To lighten our 
loads we left behind some of our supplies. We broke 
camp at 9 : 20. Eighteen minutes later, without 
having to rest, the cache was reached and the few 
remnants were picked up. Although many things 
had been abandoned, our loads seemed heavier than 
ever. We had some difficulty in negotiating the 
crevasses, but Gamarra was the only one actually 
to fall in, and he was easily pulled out again. About 
noon we heard a faint halloo, and finally made out 
two animated specks far down the mountain side. 
The effect of again seeing somebody from the out- 
side world was rather curious. I had a choking 
sensation. Tucker, who led the way, told me long 
afterward that he could not keep the tears from 
running down his cheeks, although we did not see it 
at the time. The "specks " turned out to be Watkins 
and an Indian boy, who came up as high as was safe 
without ropes or crampons, and relieved us of some 
weight. The Base Camp was reached at half-past 


twelve. One of the first things Tucker did on return- 
ing was to weigh all the packs. To my surprise and 
disgust I learned that on the way down Tucker, 
afraid that some of us would collapse, had carried 
sixty-one pounds, and Gamarra sixty-four, while 
he had given me only thirty-one pounds, and the 
same to Coello. This, of course, does not include the 
weight of our ice-creepers, axes, or rope. 

The next day all of us felt very tired and drowsy. 
In fact, I was almost overcome with inertia. It was 
a fearful task even to lift one's hand. The sun had 
burned our faces terribly. Our lips were painfully 
swollen. We coughed and whooped. It seemed best 
to make every effort to get back to a still lower 
altitude for the mules. So we broke camp, got the 
loads ready without waiting, put our sleeping-bags 
and blankets on our backs, and went rapidly down 
to the Indians' huts. Immediately our malaise left 
us. We felt physically stronger. We took deep 
breaths as though we had gotten back to sea level. 
There was no sensation of oppression on the chest. 
Yet we were still actually higher than the top of 
Pike's Peak. We could move rapidly about without 
getting out of breath; the aggravating "whooping 
cough" left us; and our appetites returned. To be 
sure, we still suffered from the effects of snow and 
sun. On the ascent I had been very thirsty and 
foolishly had allowed myself to eat a considerable 
amount of snow. As a result my tongue was now 
so extremely sensitive that pieces of soda biscuit 
tasted like broken glass. Corporal Gamarra, who 
had been unwilling to keep his snow-glasses always 


in place and thought to relieve his eyes by fre- 
quently dispensing with them, now suffered from 
partial snow-blindness. The rest of us were spared 
any inflammation of the eyes. There followed two 
days of resting and waiting. Then the smiling 
arrieros, surprised and delighted at seeing us alive 
again after our adventure with Coropuna, arrived 
with our mules. The Tejadas gave us hearty em- 
braces and promptly went off up to the snow line 
to get the loads. The next day we returned to Chu- 

In November Chief Topographer Hendriksen 
completed his survey and found the latitude of 
Coropuna to be 15° 31' South, and the longitude to 
be '72° 42' 40'' West of Greenwich. He computed its 
altitude to be 21,703 feet above sea level. The result 
of comparing the readings of our mercurial barom- 
eter, taken at the summit, with the simultaneous 
readings taken at Arequipa gave practically the 
same figures. There was less than sixty feet differ- 
ence between the two. Although Coropuna proves 
to be thirteen hundred feet lower than Bandelier's 
estimate, and a thousand feet lower than the high- 
est mountain in South America, still it is a thousand 
feet higher than the highest mountain in North 
America. While we were glad we were the first to 
reach the top, we all agreed we would never do it 
again I 



A FTER a few days in the delightful climate of 
Jl\- Chuquibamba we set out for Parinacochas, the 
"Flamingo Lake" of the Incas. The late Sir 
Clements Markham, literary and historical suc- 
cessor of the author of "The Conquest of Peru," 
had called attention to this unexplored lake in one 
of the publications of the Royal Geographical So- 
ciety, and had named a bathymetric survey of 
Parinacochas as one of the principal desiderata for 
future exploration in Peru. So far as one could 
judge from the published maps Parinacochas, al- 
though much smaller than Titicaca, was the largest 
body of water entirely in Peru. A thorough search 
of geographical literature failed to reveal anything 
regarding its depth. The only thing that seemed to 
be known about it was that it had no outlet. Gen- 
eral William Miller, once British consul general in 
Honolulu, who had as a young man assisted General 
San Martin in the Wars for the Independence of 
Chile and Peru, published his memoirs in London 
in 1828. During the campaigns against the Spanish 
forces in Peru he had had occasion to see many out- 
of-the-way places in the interior. On one of his 
rough sketch maps he indicates the location of Lake 
Parinacochas and notes the fact that the water is 
"brackish." This statement of General Miller's and 


the suggestion of Sir Clements Markham that a 
bathymetric survey of the lake would be an impor- 
tant contribution to geographical knowledge was all 
that we were able to learn. Our arrieros, the Teja- 
das, had never been to Parinacochas, but knew in a 
general way its location and were not afraid to try to 
get there. Some of their friends had been there and 
come back alive ! 

First, however, it was necessary for us to go 
to Cotahuasi, the capital of the Province of Anta- 
bamba, and meet Dr. Bowman and Mr. Hendriksen, 
who had slowly been working their way across the 
Andes from the Urubamba Valley, and who would 
need a new supply of food-boxes if they were to 
complete the geographical reconnaissance of the 73d 
meridian. Our route led us out of the Chuquibamba 
Valley by a long, hard climb up the steep cliffs at its 
head and then over the gently sloping, semi-arid 
desert in a northerly direction, around the west 
flanks of Coropuna. When we stopped to make 
camp that night on the Pampa of Chumpillo, our 
arrieros used dried moss and dung for fuel for the 
camp fire. There was some bunch-grass, and there 
were llamas pasturing on the plains. Near our tent 
were some Inca ruins, probably the dwelling of a 
shepherd chief, or possibly the remains of a tem- 
ple described by Cieza de Leon (15 19-1560), whose 
remarkable accounts of what he saw and learned in 
Peru during the time of the Pizarros are very highly 
regarded. He says that among the five most im- 
portant temples in the Land of the Incas was one 
"much venerated and frequented by them, named 


Coropuna." " It is on a very lofty mountain which 
is covered with snow both in summer and winter. 
The kings of Peru visited this temple making pres- 
ents and offerings. ... It is held for certain [by 
treasure hunters!] that among the gifts offered to 
this temple there were many loads of silver, gold, 
and precious stones buried in places which are now 
unknown. The Indians concealed another great sum 
which was for the service of the idol, and of the 
priests and virgins who attended upon it. But as 
there are great masses of snow, people do not ascend 
to the summit, nor is it known where these are 
hidden. This temple possessed many flocks, farms, 
and service of Indians." No one lives here now, but 
there are many flocks and llamas, and not far away 
we saw ancient storehouses and burial places. That 
night we suffered from intense cold and were kept 
awake by the bitter wind which swept down from 
the snow fields of Coropuna and shook the walls of 
our tent violently. 

The next day we crossed two small oases, little 
gulches watered from the melting snow of Coropuna. 
Here there was an abundance of peat and some small 
gnarled trees from which Chuquibamba derives 
part of its fuel supply. We climbed slowly around 
the lower spurs of Coropuna into a bleak desert 
wilderness of lava blocks and scoriaceous sand, the 
Red Desert, or Pampa Colorada. It is for the most 
part between 15,000 and 16,000 feet above sea level, 
and is bounded on the northwest by the canyon of 
the Rio Arma, 2000 feet deep, where we made our 
camp and passed a more agreeable night. The fol- 


lowing morning we climbed out again on the farther 
side of the canyon and skirted the eastern slopes 
of Mt. Solimana. Soon the trail turned abruptly to 
the left, away from our old friend Coropuna. 

We wondered how long ago our mountain was an 
active volcano. To-day, less than two hundred miles 
south of here are live peaks, like El Misti and Ubi- 
nas, which still smolder occasionally and have been 
known in the memory of man to give forth great 
showers of cinders covering a wide area. Possibly 
not so very long ago the great truncated peak of 
Coropuna was formed by a last flickering of the 
ancient fires. Dr. Bowman says that the greater 
part of the vast accumulation of lavas and volcanic 
cinders in this vicinity goes far back to a period pre- 
ceding the last glacial epoch. The enormous amount 
of erosion that has taken place in the adjacent 
canyons and the great numbers of strata, composed 
of lava flows, laid bare by the mighty streams of the 
glacial period all point to this conclusion. 

My saddle mule was one of those cantankerous 
beasts that are gentle enough as long as they are 
allowed to have their own way. In her case this 
meant that she was happy only when going along 
close to her friends in the caravan. If reined in, 
while I took some notes, she became very restive, 
finally whirling around, plunging and kicking. 
Contrariwise, no amount of spurring or lashing with 
a stout quirt availed to make her go ahead of her 
comrades. This morning I was particularly anxious 
to get a picture of our pack train jogging steadily 
along over the desert, directly away from Coropuna. 


Since my mule would not gallop ahead, I had to dis- 
mount, run a couple of hundred yards ahead of the 
rapidly advancing animals and take the picture 
before they reached me. We were now at an eleva- 
tion of 16,000 feet above sea level. Yet to my sur- 
prise and delight I found that it was relatively as 
easy to run here as anywhere, so accustomed had 
my lungs and heart become to very rarefied air. 
Had I attempted such a strenuous feat at a similar 
altitude before climbing Coropuna it would have 
been physically impossible. Any one who has tried 
to run two hundred yards at three miles above sea 
level will understand. 

We were still in a very arid region ; mostly coarse 
black sand and pebbles, with typical desert shrubs 
and occasional bunches of tough grass. The slopes 
of Mt. Solimana on our left were fairly well covered 
with sparse vegetation. Among the bushes we saw a 
number of vicunas, the smallest wild camels of the 
New World. We tried in vain to get near enough 
for a photograph. They were extremely timid and 
scampered away before we were within three hun- 
dred yards. 

Seven or eight miles more of very gradual down- 
ward slope brought us suddenly and unexpectedly 
to the brink of a magnificent canyon, the densely 
populated valley of Cotahuasi. The walls of the 
canyon were covered with innumerable terraces — 
thousands of them. It seemed at first glance as 
though every available spot in the canyon had been 
either terraced or allotted to some compact little 
village. One could count more than a score of towns, 


including Cotahuasi itself, its long main street out- 
lined by whitewashed houses. As we zigzagged down 
into the canyon our road led us past hundreds of 
the artificial terraces and through little villages of 
thatched huts huddled together on spurs rescued 
from the all-embracing agriculture. After spending 
several weeks in a desert region, where only the 
narrow valley bottoms showed any signs of cultiva- 
tion, it seemed marvelous to observe the extent to 
which terracing had been carried on the side of the 
Cotahuasi Valley. Although we were now in the 
zone of light annual rains, it was evident from the 
extraordinary irrigation system that agriculture 
here depends very largely on ability to bring water 
down from the great mountains in the interior. 
Most of the terraces and irrigation canals were built 
centuries ago, long before the discovery of America. 
No part of the ancient civilization of Peru has 
been more admired than the development of agri- 
culture. Mr. Cook says that there is no part of the 
world in which more pains have been taken to raise 
crops where nature made it hard for them to be 
planted. In other countries, to be sure, we find 
reclamation projects, where irrigation canals serve 
to bring water long distances to be used on arid but 
fruitful soil. We also find great fertilizer factories 
turning out, according to proper chemical formula, 
the needed constituents to furnish impoverished 
soils with the necessary materials for plant growth. 
We find man overcoming many obstacles in the way 
of transportation, in order to reach great regions 
where nature has provided fertile fields and made 


it easy to raise life-giving crops. Nowhere outside of 
Peru, either in historic or prehistoric times, does one 
find farmers spending incredible amounts of labor 
in actually creating arable fields, besides bringing 
the water to irrigate them and the guano to fertilize 
them; yet that is what was done by the ancient 
highlanders of Peru. As they spread over a country 
in which the arable flat land was usually at so great 
an elevation as to be suitable for only the hardiest 
of root crops, like the white potato and the oca, they 
were driven to use narrow valley bottoms and steep, 
though fertile, slopes in order to raise the precious 
maize and many of the other temperate and tropical 
plants which they domesticated for food and medi- 
cinal purposes. They were constantly confronted 
by an extraordinary scarcity of soil. In the valley 
bottoms torrential rivers, meandering from side to 
side, were engaged in an endless endeavor to tear 
away the arable land and bear it off to the sea. The 
slopes of the valleys were frequently so very steep 
as to discourage the most ardent modern agricul- 
turalist. The farmer might wake up any morning to 
find that a heavy rain during the night had washed 
away a large part of his carefully planted fields. 
Consequently there was developed, through the 
centuries, a series of stone-faced andenes, terraces 
or platforms. 

Examination of the ancient andenes discloses the 
fact that they were not made by simply hoeing in 
the earth from the hillside back of a carefully con- 
structed stone wall. The space back of the walls was 
first filled in with coarse rocks, clay, and rubble; 


then followed smaller rocks, pebbles, and gravel, 
which would serve to drain the subsoil. Finally, on 
top of all this, and to a depth of eighteen inches or 
so, was laid the finest soil they could procure. The 
result was the best possible field for intensive culti- 
vation. It seems absolutely unbelievable that such 
an immense amount of pains should have been taken 
for such relatively small results. The need must 
have been very great. In many cases the terraces 
are only a few feet wide, although hundreds of yards 
in length. Usually they follow the natural contours 
of the valley. Sometimes they are two hundred 
yards wide and a quarter of a mile long. To-day 
com, barley, and alfalfa are grown on the terraces. 

Cotahuasi itself lies in the bottom of the valley, 
a pleasant place where one can purchase the most 
fragrant and highly prized of all Peruvian wines. 
The climate is agreeable, and has attracted many 
landlords, whose estates lie chiefly on the bleak 
plateaus of the surrounding highlands, where shep- 
herds tend flocks of llamas, sheep, and alpacas. 

We were cordially welcomed by Sefior Viscarra, 
the sub-prefect, and invited to stay at his house. 
He was a stranger to the locality, and, as the visible 
representative of a powerful and far-away central 
government, was none too popular with some of the 
people of his province. Very few residents of a pro- 
vincial capital like Cotahuasi have ever been to 
Lima; — probably not a single member of the Lima 
government had ever been to Cotahuasi. Conse- 
quently one could not expect to find much sympathy 
between the two. The difliculties of traveling in 


Peru are so great as to discourage pleasure trips. 
With our letters of introduction and the telegrams 
that had preceded us from the prefect at Arequipa, 
we were known to be friends of the government and 
so were doubly welcome to the sub-prefect. By 
nature a kind and generous man, of more than 
usual education and intelligence, Seiior Viscarra 
showed himself most courteous and hospitable to us 
in every particular. In our honor he called together 
his friends. They brought pictures of Theodore 
Roosevelt and Elihu Root, and made a large Ameri- 
can flag; a courtesy we deeply appreciated, even if 
the flag did have only thirty-six stars. Finally, they 
gave us a splendid banquet as a tribute of friendship 
for America. 

One day the sub-prefect offered to have his 
personal barber attend us. It was some time since 
Mr. Tucker and I had seen a barber-shop. The 
chances were that we should find none at Parina- 
cochas. Consequently we accepted with pleasure. 
When the barber arrived, closely guarded by a 
gendarme armed with a loaded rifle, we learned that 
he was a convict from the local jail! I did not like 
to ask the nature of his crime, but he looked like a 
murderer. When he unwrapped an ancient pair of 
clippers from an unspeakably soiled and oily rag, I 
wished I was in a position to decline to place myself 
under his ministrations. The sub-prefect, however, 
had been so kind and was so apologetic as to the 
inconveniences of the "barber-shop" that there was 
nothing for it but to go bravely forward. Although 
it was unpleasant to have one's hair trimmed by an 


uncertain pair of rusty clippers, I could not help ex- 
periencing a feeling of relief that the convict did not 
have a pair of shears. He was working too near my 
jugular vein. Finally the period of torture came to 
an end, and the prisoner accepted his fees with a 
profound salutation. We breathed sighs of relief, 
not unmixed with sympathy, as we saw him marched 
safely away by the gendarme. 

We had arrived in Cotahuasi almost simulta- 
neously with Dr. Bowman and Topographer Hen- 
driksen. They had encountered extraordinary diffi- 
culties in carrying out the reconnaissance of the 
73d meridian, but were now past the worst of it. 
Their supplies were exhausted, so those which we had 
brought from Arequipa were doubly welcome. Mr. 
Watkins was assigned to assist Mr. Hendriksen and 
a few days later Dr. Bowman started south to study 
the geology and geography of the desert. He took 
with him as escort Corporal Gamarra, who was 
only too glad to escape from the machinations of 
his enemies. It will be remembered that it was 
Gamarra who had successfully defended the Cota- 
huasi barracks and jail at the time of a revolution- 
ary riot which occurred some months previous to 
our visit. The sub-prefect accompanied Dr. Bow- 
man out of town. For Gamarra's sake they left the 
house at three o'clock in the morning and our gener- 
ous host agreed to ride with them until daybreak. 
In his important monograph, "The Andes of South- 
ern Peru," Dr. Bowman writes: "At four o'clock our 
whispered arrangements were made. We opened 
the gates noiselessly and our small cavalcade hur- 


ried through the pitch-black streets of the town. 
The soldier rode ahead, his rifle across his saddle, 
and directly behind him rode the sub-prefect and 
myself. The pack mules were in the rear. We had 
almost reached the end of the street when a door 
opened suddenly and a shower of sparks flew out 
ahead of us. Instantly the soldier struck spurs into 
his mule and turned into a side street. The sub- 
prefect drew his horse back savagely, and when the 
next shower of sparks flew out pushed me against 
the wall and whispered, 'For God's sake, who is it?* 
Then suddenly he shouted. 'Stop blowing! Stop 
blowing ! ' " 

The cause of all the disturbance was a shabby, 
hard-working tailor who had gotten up at this 
unearthly hour to start his day's work by pressing 
clothes for some insistent customer. He had in his 
hand an ancient smoothing-iron filled with live 
coals, on which he had been vigorously blowing. 
Hence the sparks! That a penitent tailor and his 
ancient goose should have been able to cause such 
terrific excitement at that hour in the morning 
would have interested our own Oliver Wendell 
Holmes, who was fond of referring to this pictur- 
esque apparatus and who might have written an 
appropriate essay on The Goose that Startled the 
Soldier of Cotahuasi; with Particular Reference to 
His Being a Possible Namesake of the Geese that 
Aroused the Soldiers of Ancient Rome. 

The most unusual industry of Cotahuasi is the 
weaving of rugs and carpets on vertical hand looms. 
The local carpet weavers make the warp and woof 

T 4 

























































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of woolen yam in which loops of alpaca wool, black, 
gray, or white, are inserted to form the desired pat- 
tern. The loops are cut so as to form a deep pile. 
The result is a delightfully thick, warm, gray rug. 
Ordinarily the native Peruvian rug has no pile. 
Probably the industry was brought from Europe 
by some Spaniard centuries ago. It seems to be re- 
stricted to this remote region. The rug makers are a 
small group of Indians who live outside the town but 
who carry their hand looms from house to house, as 
required. It is the custom for the person who desires 
a rug to buy the wool, supply the pattern, furnish 
the weaver with board, lodging, coca, tobacco and 
wine, and watch the rug grow from day to day under 
the shelter of his own roof. The rug weavers are 
very clever in copying new patterns. Through the 
courtesy of Senor Viscarra we eventually received 
several small rugs, woven especially for us from 
monogram designs drawn by Mr. Hendriksen. 

Early one morning in November we said good-bye 
to our friendly host, and, directed by a picturesque 
old guide who said he knew the road to Parinaco- 
chas, we left Cotahuasi. The highway crossed the 
neighboring stream on a treacherous-looking bridge, 
the central pier of which was built of the crudest 
kind of masonry piled on top of a gigantic boulder 
in midstream. The main arch of the bridge con- 
sisted of two long logs across which had been thrown 
a quantity of brush held down by earth and stones. 
There was no rail on either side, but our mules had 
crossed bridges of this type before and made little 
trouble. On the northern side of the valley we rode 


through a compact little town called Mungi and 
began to cHmb out of the canyon, passing hundreds 
of very fine artificial terraces, at present used for 
crops of maize and barley. In one place our road led 
us by a little waterfall, an altogether surprising and 
unexpected phenomenon in this arid region. Inves- 
tigation, however, proved that it was artificial, as 
well as the fields. Its presence may be due to a tem- 
porary connection between the upper and lower 
levels of ancient irrigation canals. 

Hour after hour our pack train painfully climbed 
the narrow, rocky zigzag trail. The climate is fav- 
orable for agriculture. Wherever the sides of the 
canyon were not absolutely precipitous, stone-faced 
terraces and irrigation had transformed them long 
ago into arable fields. Four thousand feet above the 
valley floor we came to a very fine series of beautiful 
terraces. On a shelf near the top of the canyon we 
Ditched our tent near some rough stone corrals used 
by shepherds whose flocks grazed on the lofty 
plateau beyond, and near a tiny brook, which was 
partly frozen over the next morning. Our camp was 
at an elevation of 14,500 feet above the sea. Near 
by were turreted rocks, curious results of wind-and- 
sand erosion. 

The next day we entered a region of mountain 
pastures. We passed occasional swamps and little 
pools of snow water. From one of these we turned 
and looked back across the great Cotahuasi Canyon, 
to the glaciers of Sollmana and snow-clad Coropuna, 
now growing fainter and fainter as we went toward 
Parinacochas. At an altitude of 16,500 feet we 


struck across a great barren plateau covered with 
rocks and sand — hardly a Hving thing in sight. 
In the midst of it we came to a beautiful lake, 
but it was not Parinacochas. On the plateau it 
was intensely cold. Occasionally I dismounted and 
jogged along beside my mule in order to keep warm. 
Again I noticed that as the result of my experiences 
on Coropuna I suffered no discomfort, nor any 
symptoms of mountain-sickness, even after trotting 
steadily for four or five hundred yards. In the after- 
noon we began to descend from the plateau toward 
Lampa and found ourselves in the pasture lands of 
Ajochiucha, where ichu grass and other little foliage 
plants, watered by rain and snow, furnish forage 
for large flocks of sheep, llamas, and alpacas. Their 
owners live in the cultivated valleys, but the Indian 
herdsmen must face the storms and piercing winds 
of the high pastures. 

Alpacas are usually timid. On this occasion, how- 
ever, possibly because they were thirsty and were 
seeking water holes in the upper courses of a little 
swale, they stopped and allowed me to observe them 
closely. The fleece of the alpaca is one of the softest 
in the world. However, due to the fact that shrewd 
tradesmen, finding that the fabric manufactured 
from alpaca wool was highly desired, many years 
ago gave the name to a far cheaper fabric, the 
"alpaca" of commerce, a material used for coat 
linings, umbrellas, and thin, warm-weather coats, 
is a fabric of cotton and wool, with a hard surface, 
and generally dyed black. It usually contains no 
real alpaca wool at all, and is fairly cheap. The real 


alpaca wool which comes into the market to-day is 
not so called. Long and silky, straighter than the 
sheep's wool, it is strong, small of fiber, very soft, 
pliable and elastic. It is capable of being woven into 
fabrics of great beauty and comfort. Many of the 
silky, fluiTy, knitted garments that command the 
highest prices for winter wear, and which are called 
by various names, such as "vicuna," " camel's hair," 
etc., are really made of alpaca. 

The alpaca, like its cousin, the llama, was proba- 
bly domesticated by the early Peruvians from the 
wild guanaco, largest of the camels of the New 
World. The guanaco still exists in a wild state and is 
always of uniform coloration. Llamas and alpacas 
are extremely variegated. The llama has so coarse 
a hair that it is seldom woven into cloth for wearing 
apparel, although heavy blankets made from it are 
in use by the natives. Bred to be a beast of burden, 
the llama is accustomed to the presence of strangers 
and is not any more timid of them than our horses 
and cows. The alpaca, however, requiring better 
and scarcer forage — short, tender grass and plenty 
of water — frequents the most remote and lofty of 
the mountain pastures, is handled only when the 
fleece is removed, seldom sees any one except the 
peaceful shepherds, and is extremely shy of stran- 
gers, although not nearlyas timid as itsdistant cousin 
the vicufia. I shall never forget the first time I ever 
saw some alpacas. They looked for all the world 
like the "woolly-dogs" of our toys shops — woolly 
along the neck right up to the eyes and woolly along 
the legs right down to the invisible wheels! There 


was something inexpressibly comic about these long- 
legged animals. They look like toys on wheels, but 
actually they can gallop like cows. 

The llama, with far less hair on head, neck, and 
legs, is also amusing, but in a different way. His ex- 
pression is haughty and supercilious in the extreme. 
He usually looks as though his presence near one 
is due to circumstances over which he really had 
no control. Pride of race and excessive haughti- 
ness lead him to carry his head so high and his neck 
so stiffly erect that he can be corralled, with others 
of his kind, by a single rope passed around the necks 
of the entire group. Yet he can be bought for ten 

On the pasture lands of Ajochiucha there were 
many ewes and lambs, both of llamas and alpacas. 
Even the shepherds were mostly children, more 
timid than their charges. They crouched incon- 
spicuously behind rocks and shrubs, endeavoring to 
escape our notice. About five o'clock in the after- 
noon, on a dry pampa, we found the ruins of one of 
the largest known Inca storehouses, Chichipampa, 
an interesting reminder of the days when benevo- 
lent despots ruled the Andes and, like the Pharaohs 
of old, provided against possible famine. The local- 
ity is not occupied, yet near by are populous valleys. 

As soon as we left our camp the next morning, we 
came abruptly to the edge of the Lampa Valley. 
This was another of the mile-deep canyons so 
characteristic of this region. Our pack mules 
grunted and groaned as they picked their way down 
the corkscrew trail. It overhangs the mud-colored 


Indian town of Colta, a rather scattered collection 
of a hundred or more huts. Here again, as in the 
Cotahuasi Valley, are hundreds of ancient terraces, 
extending for thousands of feet up the sides of the 
canyon. Many of them were badly out of repair, but 
those near Colta were still being used for raising 
crops of corn, potatoes, and barley. The unculti- 
vated spots were covered with cacti, thorn bushes, 
and the gnarled, stunted trees of a semi-arid region. 
In the town itself were half a dozen specimens of the 
Australian eucalyptus, that agreeable and extraor- 
dinarily successful colonist which one encounters 
not only in the heart of Peru, but in the Andes of 
Colombia and the new forest preserves of California 
and the Hawaiian Islands. 

Colta has a few two-storied houses, with tiled 
roofs. Some of them have open verandas on the 
second floor — a sure indication that the climate is 
at times comfortable. Their walls are built of sun- 
dried adobe, and so are the walls of the little grass- 
thatched huts of the majority. Judging by the 
rather irregular plan of the streets and the great 
number of terraces in and around town, one may 
conclude that Colta goes far back of the sixteenth 
century and the days of the Spanish Conquest, as 
indeed do most Peruvian towns. The cities of Lima 
and Arequipa are noteworthy exceptions. Leaving 
Colta, we wound around the base of the projecting 
ridge, on the sides of which were many evidences of 
ancient culture, and came into the valley of Huan- 
cahuanca, a large arid canyon. The guide said that 
we were nearing Parinacochas. Not many miles 


• • U "* J 

>l - 

' -J ' \- % ^ S*7' ^ 




away, across two canyons, was a snow-capped 
peak, Sarasara. 

Lampa, the chief town in the Huancahuanca 
Canyon, lies on a great natural terrace of gravel and 
alluvium more than a thousand feet above the river. 
Part of the terrace seemed to be irrigated and un- 
der cultivation. It was proposed by the energetic 
farmers at the time of our visit to enlarge the system 
of irrigation so as to enable them to cultivate a 
larger part of the pampa on which they lived. In 
fact, the new irrigation scheme was actually in 
process of being carried out and has probably long 
since been completed. Our reception in Lampa was 
not cordial. It will be remembered that our military 
escort. Corporal Gamarra, had gone back to Are- 
quipa with Dr. Bowman. Our two excellent arrieros, 
the Tejada brothers, declared they preferred to 
travel without any "brass buttons," so we had not 
asked the sub-prefect of Cotahuasi to send one of 
his small handful of gendarmes along with us. Prob- 
ably this was a mistake. Unless one is traveling 
in Peru on some easily understood matter, such as 
prospecting for mines or representing one of the 
great importing and commission houses, or actu- 
ally peddling goods, one cannot help arousing the 
natural suspicions of a people to whom traveling 
on muleback for pleasure is unthinkable, and scien- 
tific exploration for its own sake is incomprehen- 
sible. Of course, if the explorers arrive accompanied 
by a gendarme it is perfectly evident that the enter- 
prise has the approval and probably the financial 
backing of the government. It is surmised that the 


explorers are well paid, and what would be otherwise 
inconceivable becomes merely one of the ordinary 
experiences of life. South American governments 
almost without exception are paternalistic, and 
their citizens are led to expect that all measures con- 
nected with research, whether it be scientific, eco- 
nomic, or social, are to be conducted by the govern- 
ment and paid for out of the national treasury. 
Individual enterprise is not encouraged. During all 
my preceding exploration in Peru I had had such 
an easy time that I not only forgot, but failed to 
realize, how often an ever-present gendarme, pro- 
vided through the courtesy of President Leguia's 
government, had quieted suspicions and assured us 
a cordial welcome. 

Now, however, when without a gendarme we 
entered the smart little town of Lampa, we found 
ourselves immediately and unquestionably the ob- 
jects of extreme suspicion and distrust. Yet we 
could not help admiring the well-swept streets, 
freshly whitewashed houses, and general air of 
prosperity and enterprise. The gohernador of the 
town lived on the main street in a red-tiled house, 
whose courtyard and colonnade were probably two 
hundred years old. He had heard nothing of our 
undertaking from the government. His friends 
urged him to take some hostile action. Fortunately, 
our arrieros, respectable men of high grade, although 
strangers in Lampa, were able to allay his suspicions 
temporarily. We were not placed under arrest, 
although I am sure his action was not approved by 
the very suspicious town councilors, who found it far 


easier to suggest reasons for our being fugitives from 
justice than to understand the real object of our 

The very fact that we were bound for Lake Pari- 
nacochas, a place well known in Lampa, added to 
their suspicion. It seems that Lampa is famous for. 
its weavers, who utilize the wool of the countless 
herds of sheep, alpacas, and vicunas in this vicinity 
to make ponchos and blankets of high grade, much 
desired not only in this locality but even in Are- 
quipa. These are marketed, as so often happens in 
the outlying parts of the world, at a great annual 
fair, attended by traders who come hundreds of 
miles, bringing the manufactured articles of the 
outer world and seeking the highly desired products 
of these secluded towns. The great fair for this 
vicinity has been held, for untold generations, on 
the shores of Lake Parinacochas. Every one is 
anxious to attend the fair, which is an occasion for 
seeing one's friends, an opportunity for jollification, 
carousing, and general enjoyment — like a large 
county fair at home. Except for this annual fair 
week, the basin of Parinacochas is as bleak and 
desolate as our own fair-grounds, with scarcely a 
house to be seen except those that are used for the 
purposes of the fair. Had we been bound for Parina- 
cochas at the proper season nothing could have been 
more reasonable and praiseworthy. Why anybody 
should want to go to Parinacochas during one of the 
other fifty-one weeks in the year was utterly beyond 
the comprehension or understanding of these village 
worthies. So, to our "selectmen," are the idiosyn- 


crasies of itinerant gypsies who wish to camp in our 
deserted fair-grounds. 

The Tejadas were not anxious to spend the night 
in town — probably because, according to our con- 
tract, the cost of feeding the mules devolved entirely 
upon them and fodder is always far more expensive 
in town than in the country. It was just as well for 
us that this was so, for I am sure that before morn- 
ing the village gossips would have persuaded the 
gohernador to arrest us. As it was, however, he was 
pleasant and hospitable, and considerably amused at 
the embarrassment of an Indian woman who was 
weaving at a hand loom in his courtyard and whom 
we desired to photograph. She could not easily es- 
cape, for she was sitting on the ground with one end 
of the loom fastened around her waist, the other end 
tied to a eucalyptus tree. So she covered her eyes 
and mouth with her hands, and almost wept with 
mortification at our strange procedure. Peruvian 
Indian women are invariably extremely shy, rarely 
like to be photographed, and are anxious only to 
escape observation and notice. The ladies of the 
gohernador' s own family, however, of mixed Span- 
ish and Indian ancestry, not only had no objection 
to being photographed, but were moved to un- 
seemly and unsympathetic laughter at the predica- 
ment of their unfortunate sister. 

After leaving Lampa we found ourselves on the 
best road that we had seen in a long time. Its 
excellence was undoubtedly due to the enterprise 
and energy of the people of this pleasant town. One 
might expect that citizens who kept their town so 


clean and neat and were engaged in the unusual act 
of constructing new irrigation works would have a 
comfortable road in the direction toward which they 
usually would wish to go, namely, toward the coast. 
As we climbed out of the Huancahuanca Valley 
we noticed no evidences of ancient agricultural ter- 
races, either on the sides of the valley or on the 
alluvial plain which has given rise to the town of 
Lampa and whose products have made its people 
well fed and energetic. The town itself seems to be 
of modern origin. One wonders why there are so 
few, if any, evidences of the ancient regime when 
there are so many a short distance away in Colta 
and the valley around it. One cannot believe that 
the Incas would have overlooked such a fine agri- 
cultural opportunity as an extensive alluvial terrace 
in a region where there is so little arable land. Pos- 
sibly the very excellence of the land and its relative 
flatness rendered artificial terracing unnecessary in 
the minds of the ancient people who lived here. 
On the other hand, it may have been occupied until 
late Inca times by one of the coast tribes. Whatever 
the cause, certainly the deep canyon of Huanca- 
huanca divides two very different regions. To 
come in a few hours, from thickly terraced Colta 
to unterraced Lampa was so striking as to give us 
cause for thought and speculation. It is well known 
that in the early days before the Inca conquest of 
Peru, not so very long before the Spanish Conquest, 
there were marked differences between the tribes 
who inhabited the high plateau and those who lived 
along the shore of the Pacific. Their pottery is as 


different as possible in design and ornamentation; 
the architecture of their cities and temples is ab- 
solutely distinct. Relative abundance of flat lands 
never led them to develop terracing to the same 
extent that the mountain people had done. Per- 
haps on this alluvial terrace there lived a remnant 
of the coastal peoples. Excavation would show. 

Scarcely had we climbed out of the valley of 
Huancahuanca and surmounted the ridge when we 
came in sight of more artificial terraces. Beyond a 
broad, deep valley rose the extinct volcanic cone of 
Mt. Sarasara, now relatively close at hand, its lower 
slopes separated from us by another canyon. Snow 
lay in the gulches and ravines near the top of the 
mountain. Our road ran near the towns of Pararca 
and Colcabamba, the latter much like Colta, a 
straggling village of thatched huts surrounded by 
hundreds of terraces. The vegetation on the valley 
slopes indicated occasional rains. Near Pararca we 
passed fields of barley and wheat growing on old 
stone-faced terraces. On every hand were signs of 
a fairly large population engaged in agriculture, 
utilizing fields which had been carefully prepared 
for them by their ancestors. They were not using all, 
however. We noticed hundreds of terraces that did 
not appear to have been under cultivation recently. 
They may have been lying fallow temporarily. 

Our arrieros avoided the little towns, and selected 
a camp site on the roadside near the Finca Rodadero. 
After all, when one has a comfortable tent, good food, 
and skillful arrieros it is far pleasanter to spend the 
night in the clean, open country, even at an eleva- 


tion of 12,000 or 13,000 feet, than to be surrounded 
by the smells and noises of an Indian town. 

The next morning we went through some wheat 
fields, past the town of Puyusca, another large 
Indian village of thatched adobe houses placed 
high on the shoulder of a rocky hill so as to leave the 
best arable land available for agriculture. It is in a 
shallow, well-watered valley, full of springs. The 
appearance of the country had changed entirely 
since we left Cotahuasi. The desert and its steep- 
walled canyons seemed to be far behind us. Here 
was a region of gently sloping hills, covered with 
terraces, where the cereals of the temperate zone 
appeared to be easily grown. Finally, leaving the 
grain fields, we climbed up to a shallow depression 
in the low range at the head of the valley and found 
ourselves on the rim of a great upland basin more 
than twenty miles across. In the center of the basin 
was a large, oval lake. Its borders were pink. The 
water in most of the lake was dark blue, but near 
the shore the water was pink, a light salmon-pink. 
What could give it such a curious color? Nothing 
but flamingoes, countless thousands of flamingoes — 
Parinacochas at last! 



THE Parinacochas Basin is at an elevation of 
between 11,500 and 12,000 feet above sea level. 
It is about 150 miles northwest of Arequipa and 170 
miles southwest of Cuzco, and enjoys a fair amount 
of rainfall. The lake is fed by springs and small 
streams. In past geological times the lake, then 
very much larger, had an outlet not far from the 
town of Puyusca. At present Parinacochas has no 
visible outlet. It is possible that the large springs 
which we noticed as we came up the valley by 
Puyusca may be fed from the lake. On the other 
hand, we found numerous small springs on the very 
borders of the lake, generally occurring in swampy 
hillocks — built up perhaps by mineral deposits — 
three or four feet higher than the surrounding plain. 
There are very old beach marks well above the 
shore. The natives told us that in the wet season 
the lake was considerably higher than at present, 
although we could find no recent evidence to indi- 
cate that it had been much more than a foot above 
its present level. Nevertheless a rise of a foot would 
enlarge the area of the lake considerably. 

When making preparations in New Haven for the 
"bathymetric survey of Lake Parinacochas," sug- 
gested by Sir Clements Markham, we found it im- 
possible to discover any indication in geographical 


literature as to whether the depth of the lake might 
be ten feet or ten thousand feet. We decided to take 
a chance on its not being more than ten hundred 
feet. With the kind assistance of Mr. George Bas- 
sett, I secured a thousand feet of stout fish line, 
known to anglers as "24 thread," wound on a large 
wooden reel for convenience in handling. While we 
were at Chuquibamba Mr. Watkins had spent many 
weary hours inserting one hundred and sixty-six 
white and red cloth markers at six-foot intervals in 
the strands of this heavy line, so that we might be 
able more rapidly to determine the result in fathoms. 

Arrived at a low peninsula on the north shore of 
the lake, Tucker and I pitched our camp, sent our 
mules back to Puyusca for fodder, and set up the 
Acme folding boat, which we had brought so many 
miles on muleback, for the sounding operations. 
The "Acme" proved easy to assemble, although 
this was our first experience with it. Its lightness 
enabled it to be floated at the edge of the lake even 
in very shallow water, and its rigidity was much 
appreciated in the late afternoon when the high 
winds raised a vicious little "sea." Rowing out on 
waters which we were told by the natives had never 
before been navigated by craft of any kind, I began 
to take soundings. Lake Titicaca is over nine hun- 
dred feet deep. It would be aggravating if Lake 
Parinacochas should prove to be over a thousand, 
for I had brought no extra line. Even nine hundred 
feet would make sounding slow work, and the lake 
covered an area of over seventy square miles. 

It was with mixed feelings of trepidation and ex- 


pectation that I rowed out five miles from shore and 
made a sounding. Holding the large reel firmly in 
both hands, I cast the lead overboard. The reel 
gave a turn or two and stopped. Something was 
wrong. The line did not run out. Was the reel 
stuck? No, the apparatus was in perfect running 
order. Then what was the matter? The bottom was 
too near! Alas for all the pains that Mr. Bassett 
had taken to put a thousand feet of the best strong 
24-thread line on one reel! Alas for Mr. Watkins 
and his patient insertion of one hundred and sixty- 
six "fathom-markers" ! The bottom of the lake was 
only four feet away from the bottom of my boat! 
After three or four days of strenuous rowing up and 
down the eighteen miles of the lake's length, and 
back and forth across the seventeen miles of its 
width, I never succeeded in wetting Watkins's first 
marker! Several hundred soundings failed to show 
more than five feet of water anywhere. Possibly 
if we had come in the rainy season we might at least 
have wet one marker, but at the time of our visit 
(November, 191 1), the lake had a maximum depth 
of 4>^ feet. The satisfaction of making this slight 
contribution to geographic knowledge was, I fear, 
lost in the chagrin of not finding a really noteworthy 
body of water. 

Who would have thought that so long a lake could 
be so shallow? However, my feelings were soothed 
by remembering the story of the captain of a man- 
of-war who was once told that the salt lake near one 
of the red hills between Honolulu and Pearl Harbor 
was reported by the natives to be "bottomless." 


He ordered one of the ship's heavy boats to be car- 
ried from the shore several miles inland to the salt 
lake, at great expenditure of strength and labor. 
The story told me in my boyhood does not say how 
much sounding line was brought. Anyhow, they 
found this "fathomless" body of water to be not 
more than fifteen feet deep. 

Notwithstanding my disappointment at the depth 
of Parinacochas, I was very glad that we had 
brought the little folding boat, for it enabled me to 
float gently about among the myriads of birds which 
use the shallow waters of the lake as a favorite feed- 
ing ground; pink flamingoes, white gulls, small 
"divers," large black ducks, sandpipers, black ibis, 
teal ducks, and large geese. On the banks were 
ground owls and woodpeckers. It is not surprising 
that the natives should have named this body of 
water "Parinacochas" {Parina = "flamingo," co- 
chas = "lake"). The flamingoes are here in incred- 
ible multitudes; they far outnumber all other birds, 
and as I have said, actually make the shallow waters 
of the lake look pink. Fortunately they had not been 
hunted for their plumage and were not timid. After 
two days of familiarity with the boat they were 
willing to let me approach within twenty yards 
before finally taking wing. The coloring, in this 
land of drab grays and browns, was a delight to the 
eye. The head is white, the beak black, the neck 
white shading into salmon-pink; the body pinkish 
white on the back, the breast white, and the tail 
salmon-pink. The wings are salmon-pink in front, 
but the tips and the under-parts are black. As they 


stand or wade in the water their general appearance 
is chiefly pink-and-white. When they rise from the 
water, however, the black under-parts of the wings 
become strikingly conspicuous and cause a flock 
of flying flamingoes to be a wonderful contrast in 
black-and-white. When flying, the flamingo seems 
to keep his head moving steadily forward at an even 
pace, although the ropelike neck undulates with the 
slow beating of the wings. I could not be sure that it 
was not an optical delusion. Nevertheless, I thought 
the heavy body was propelled irregularly, while the 
head moved forward at uniform speed, the differ- 
ence being caught up in the undulations of the neck. 
The flamingo is an amusing bird to watch. With 
its haughty Roman nose and long, ropelike neck, 
which it coils and twists in a most incredible man- 
ner, it seems specially intended to distract one's 
mind from bathymetric disappointments. Its hoarse 
croaking, "What is it,'' "What is it/' seemed to 
express deep-throated sympathy with the sounding 
operations. On one bright moonlight night the 
flamingoes were very noisy, keeping up a continual 
clatter of very hoarse " What-is-it's." Apparently 
they failed to find out the answer in time to go to 
bed at the proper time, for next morning we found 
them all sound asleep, standing in quiet bays with 
their heads tucked under their wings. During the 
course of the forenoon, when the water was quiet, 
they waded far out into the lake. In the afternoon, 
as winds and waves arose, they came in nearer the 
shores, but seldom left the water. The great extent of 
shallow water in Parinacochas offers them a splen- 













did, wide feeding ground. We wondered where they 
all came from. Apparently they do not breed here. 
Although there were thousands and thousands of 
birds, we could find no flamingo nests, either old or 
new, search as we would. It offers a most interest- 
ing problem for some enterprising biological ex- 
plorer. Probably Mr. Frank Chapman will some 
day solve it. 

Next in number to the flamingoes were the beauti- 
ful white gulls (or terns?), looking strangely out of 
place in this Andean lake 11,500 feet above the sea. 
They usually kept together in flocks of several hun- 
dred. There were quantities of small black divers in 
the deeper parts of the lake where the flamingoes did 
not go. The divers were very quick and keen, true 
individualists operating alone and showing aston- 
ishing ability in swimming long distances under 
water. The large black ducks were much more fear- 
less than the flamingoes and were willing to swim 
very near the canoe. When frightened, they raced 
over the water at a tremendous pace, using both 
wings and feet in their efforts to escape. These 
ducks kept in large flocks and were about as com- 
mon as the small divers. Here and there in the 
lake were a few tiny little islands, each containing a 
single deserted nest, possibly belonging to an ibis or 
a duck. In the banks of a low stream near our first 
camp were holes made by woodpeckers, who in this 
country look in vain for trees and telegraph poles. 

Occasionally, a mile or so from shore, my boat 
would startle a great amphibious ox standing in the 
water up to his middle, calmly eating the succulent 


water grass. To secure it he had to plunge his head 
and neck well under the surface. 

While I was raising blisters and frightening oxen 
and flamingoes, Mr. Tucker triangulated the Parina- 
cochas Basin, making the first accurate map of this 
vicinity. As he carried his theodolite from point to 
point he often stirred up little ground owls, who 
gazed at him with solemn, reproachful looks. And 
they were not the only individuals to regard his 
activities with suspicion and dislike. Part of my 
work was to construct signal stations by piling rocks 
at conspicuous points on the well-rounded hills so 
as to enable the triangulation to proceed as rapidly 
as possible. During the night some of these signal 
stations would disappear, torn down by the super- 
stitious shepherds who lived in scattered clusters of 
huts and declined to have strange gods set up in 
their vicinity. Perhaps they thought their pastures 
were being preempted. We saw hundreds of their 
sheep and cattle feeding on flat lands formerly the 
bed of the lake. The hills of the Parinacochas Basin 
are bare of trees, and offer some pasturage. In some 
places they are covered with broken rock. The grass 
was kept closely cropped by the degenerate descend- 
ants of sheep brought into the country during Span- 
ish colonial days. They were small in size and 
mostly white in color, although there were many 
black ones. We were told that the sheep were worth 
about fifty cents apiece here. 

On our first arrival at Parinacochas we were left 
severely alone by the shepherds; but two days later 
curiosity slowly overcame their shyness, and a 


group of young shepherds and shepherdesses gradu- 
ally brought their grazing flocks nearer and nearer 
the camp, in order to gaze stealthily on these strange 
visitors, who lived in a cloth house, actually moved 
over the forbidding waters of the lake, and busied 
themselves from day to day with strange magic, 
raising and lowering a glittering glass eye on a 
tripod. The women wore dresses of heavy material, 
the skirts reaching halfway from knee to ankle. In 
lieu of hats they had small variegated shawls, made 
on hand looms, folded so as to make a pointed bon- 
net over the head and protect the neck and shoul- 
ders from sun and wind. Each woman was busily 
spinning with a hand spindle, but carried her baby 
and its gear and blankets in a hammock or sling 
attached to a tump-line that went over her head. 
These sling carry-alls were neatly woven of soft 
wool and decorated with attractive patterns. Both 
women and boys were barefooted. The boys wore 
old felt hats of native manufacture, and coats and 
long trousers much too large for them. 

At one end of the upland basin rises the graceful 
cone of Mt. Sarasara. The view of its snow-capped 
peak reflected in the glassy waters of the lake in the 
early morning was one long to be remembered. 
Sarasara must once have been much higher than it 
is at present. Its volcanic cone has been sharply 
eroded by snow and ice. In the days of its greater 
altitude, and consequently wider snow fields, the 
melting snows probably served to make Parinaco- 
chas a very much larger body of water. Although we 
were here at the beginning of summer, the wind that 


came down from the mountain at night was very 
cold. Our minimum thermometer registered 22° F. 
near the banks of the lake at night. Nevertheless, 
there was only a very thin film of ice on the borders 
of the lake in the morning, and except in the most 
shallow bays there was no ice visible far from the 
bank. The temperature of the water at 10:00 a.m. 
near the shore, and ten inches below the surface, was 
61° F., while farther out it was three or four degrees 
warmer. By noon the temperature of the water 
half a mile from shore was 67.5° F. Shortly after 
noon a strong wind came up from the coast, stirring 
up the shallow water and cooling it. Soon after- 
wards the temperature of the water began to fall, 
and, although the hot sun was shining brightly 
almost directly overhead, it went down to 65° by 
2:30 P.M. 

The water of the lake is brackish, yet we were 
able to make our camps on the banks of small 
streams of sweet water, although in each case near 
the shore of the lake. A specimen of the water, taken 
near the shore, was brought back to New Haven 
and analyzed by Dr. George S. Jamieson of the 
Sheffield Scientific School. He found that it con- 
tained small quantities of silica, iron phosphate, 
magnesium carbonate, calcium carbonate, calcium 
sulphate, potassium nitrate, potassium sulphate, 
sodium borate, sodium sulphate, and a considerable 
quantity of sodium chloride. Parlnacochas water 
contains more carbonate and potassium than that of 
the Atlantic Ocean or the Great Salt Lake. As com- 
pared with the salinity of typical "salt" waters, that 


of Lake Parinacochas occupies an intermediate posi- 
tion, containing more than Lake Koko-Nor, less 
than that of the Atlantic, and only one twentieth 
the salinity of the Great Salt Lake. 

When we moved to our second camp the Tejada 
brothers preferred to let their mules rest in the 
Puyusca Valley, where there was excellent alfalfa 
forage. The arrieros engaged at their own expense 
a pack train which consisted chiefly of Parinacochas 
burros. It is the custom hereabouts to enclose the 
packs in large-meshed nets made of rawhide which 
are then fastened to the pack animal by a surcingle. 
The Indians who came with the burro train were 
pleasant-faced, sturdy fellows, dressed in "store 
clothes" and straw hats. Their burros were as 
cantankerous as donkeys can be, never fractious or 
flighty, but stubbornly resisting, step by step, every 
effort to haul them near the loads. 

Our second camp was near the village of Inca- 
huasi, "the house of the Inca," at the northwestern 
corner of the basin. Raimondi visited it in 1863. 
The representative of the owner of Parinacochas 
occupies one of the houses. The other buildings are 
used only during the third week in August, at the 
time of the annual fair. In the now deserted plaza 
were many low stone rectangles partly covered 
with adobe and ready to be converted into booths. 
The plaza was surrounded by long, thatched build- 
ings of adobe and stone, mostly of rough ashlars. 
A few ashlars showed signs of having been care- 
fully dressed by ancient stonemasons. Some loose 
ashlars weighed half a ton and had baffled the 
attempts of modem builders. 


In constructing the large church, advantage was 
taken of a beautifully laid wall of close-fitting ash- 
lars. Incahuasi was well named ; there had been at 
one time an Inca house here, possibly a temple — 
lakes were once objects of worship — or rest-house, 
constructed in order to enable the chiefs and tax- 
gatherers to travel comfortably over the vast do- 
mains of the Incas. We found the slopes of the hills 
of the Parinacochas Basin to be well covered with 
remains of ancient terraces. Probably potatoes and 
other root crops were once raised here in fairly large 
quantities. Perhaps deforestation and subsequent 
increased aridity might account for the desertion of 
these once-cultivated lands. The hills west of the 
lake are intersected by a few dry gulches in which 
are caves that have been used as burial places. 
The caves had at one time been walled in with 
rocks laid in adobe, but these walls had been partly 
broken down so as to permit the sepulchers to be 
rifled of whatever objects of value they might have 
contained. We found nine or ten skulls lying loose 
in the rubble of the caves. One of the skulls seemed 
to have been trepanned. 

On top of the ridge are the remains of an ancient 
road, fifty feet wide, a broad grassy way through 
fields of loose stones. No effort had been made at 
grading or paving this road, and there was no evi- 
dence of its having been used in recent times. It 
runs from the lake across the ridge in a westerly 
direction toward a broad valley, where there are 
many terraces and cultivated fields; it is not far 
from Nasca. Probably the stones were picked up 


and piled on each side to save time in driving cara- 
vans of llamas across the stony ridges. The llama 
dislikes to step over any obstacle, even a very low 
wall. The grassy roadway would certainly encour- 
age the supercilious beasts to proceed in the desired 

In many places on the hills were to be seen out- 
lines of large and small rock circles and shelters 
erected by herdsmen for temporary protection 
against the sudden storms of snow and hail which 
come up with unexpected fierceness at this elevation 
(12,000 feet). The shelters were in a very ruinous 
state. They were made of rough, scoriaceous lava 
rocks. The circular enclosures varied from 8 to 25 
feet in diameter. Most of them showed no evi- 
dences whatever of recent occupation. The smaller 
walls may have been the foundation of small circu- 
lar huts. The larger walls were probably intended 
as corrals, to keep alpacas and llamas from straying 
at night and to guard against wolves or coyotes. I 
confess to being quite mystified as to the age of 
these remains. It is possible that they represent a 
settlement of shepherds within historic times, al- 
though, from the shape and size of the walls, I am 
inclined to doubt this. The shelters may have been 
built by the herdsmen of the Incas. Anyhow, those 
on the hills west of Parinacochas had not been used 
for a long time. Nasca, which is not very far away 
to the northwest, was the center of one of the most 
artistic pre-Inca cultures in Peru. It is famous for 
its very delicate pottery. 

Our third camp was on the south side of the lake. 


Near us the traces of the ancient road led to the 
ruins of two large, circular corrals, substantiating 
my belief that this curious roadway was intended 
to keep the llamas from straying at will over the 
pasture lands. On the south shores of the lake there 
were more signs of occupation than on the north, 
although there is nothing so clearly belonging to the 
time of the Incas as the ashlars and finely built wall 
at Incahuasi. On top of one of the rocky promon- 
tories we found the rough stone foundations of the 
walls of a little village. The slopes of the promon- 
tory were nearly precipitous on three sides. Forty 
or fifty very primitive dwellings had been at one 
time huddled together here in a position which could 
easily be defended. We found among the ruins a few 
crude potsherds and some bits of obsidian. There 
was nothing about the ruins of the little hill village 
to give any indication of Inca origin. Probably it 
goes back to pre-Inca days. No one could tell us 
anything about it. If there were traditions con- 
cerning it they were well concealed by the silent, 
superstitious shepherds of the vicinity. Possibly 
it was regarded as an unlucky spot, cursed by the 

The neighboring slopes showed faint evidences of 
having been roughly terraced and cultivated. The 
tutu potato would grow here, a hardy variety not 
edible in the fresh state, but considered highly de- 
sirable for making potato flour after having been 
repeatedly frozen and its bitter juices all extracted. 
So would other highland root crops of the Peruvians, 
such as the oca, a relative of our sheep sorrel, the 


anu, a kind of nasturtium, and the ullucu (uUucus 
tuber osus). 

On the flats near the shore were large corrals still 
kept in good repair. New walls were being built by 
the Indians at the time of our visit. Near the south- 
east corner of the lake were a few modern huts built 
of stone and adobe, with thatched roofs, inhabited 
by drovers and shepherds. We saw more cattle at 
the east end of the lake than elsewhere, but they 
seemed to prefer the sweet water grasses of the lake 
to the tough bunch-grass on the slopes of Sarasara. 

Viscachas were common amongst the gray lichen- 
covered rocks. They are hunted for their beauti- 
ful pearly gray fur, the "chinchilla" of commerce; 
they are also very good eating, so they have dis- 
appeared from the more accessible parts of Peru. 
One rarely sees them, although they may be found 
on bleak uplands in the mountains of Uilcapampa, 
a region rarely visited by any one on account of 
treacherous bogs and deep tarns. Writers some- 
times call viscachas "rabbit-squirrels." They have 
large, rounded ears, long hind legs, a long, bushy 
tail, and do look like a cross between a rabbit and a 
gray squirrel. 

Surmounting one of the higher ridges one day, I 
came suddenly upon an unusually large herd of wild 
vicunas. It included more than one hundred in- 
dividuals. Their relative fearlessness also testified 
to the remoteness of Parinacochas and the small 
amount of hunting that is done here. Vicunas have 
never been domesticated, but are often hunted for 
their skins. Their silky fleece is even finer than 


alpaca. The more fleecy portions of their skins are 
sewed together to make quilts, as soft as eider down 
and of a golden brown color. 

After Mr. Tucker finished his triangulation of the 
lake I told the arrieros to find the shortest road home. 
They smiled, murmured "Arequipa," and started 
south. We soon came to the rim of the Maraicasa 
Valley where, peeping up over one of the hills far to 
the south, we got a little glimpse of Coropuna. The 
Maraicasa Valley is well inhabited and there were 
many grain fields in sight, although few seemed to be 
terraced. The surrounding hills were smooth and 
well rounded and the valley bottom contained much 
alluvial land. We passed through it and, after dark, 
reached Sondor, a tiny hamlet inhabited by ex- 
tremely suspicious and inhospitable drovers. In the 
darkness Don Pablo pleaded with the owners of 
a well-thatched hut, and told them how "impor- 
tant" we were. They were unwilling to give us any 
shelter, so we were forced to pitch our tent in the 
very rocky and dirty corral immediately in front of 
one of the huts, where pigs, dogs, and cattle annoyed 
us all night. If we had arrived before dark we might 
have received a different welcome. As a matter of 
fact, the herdsmen only showed the customary 
hostility of mountaineers and wilderness folk to 
those who do not arrive in the daytime, when they 
can be plainly seen and fully discussed. 

The next morning we passed some fairly recent 
lava flows and noted also many curious rock forms 
caused by wind and sand erosion. We had now left 
the belt of grazing lands and once more come into 


the desert. At length we reached the rim of the 
mile-deep Caraveli Canyon and our eyes were glad- 
dened at sight of the rich green oasis, a striking con- 
trast to the barren walls of the canyon. As we 
descended the long, winding road we passed many 
fine specimens of tree cactus. At the foot of the 
steep descent we found ourselves separated from the 
nearest settlement by a very wide river, which it 
was necessary to ford. Neither of the Tejadas had 
ever been here before and its depths and dangers 
were unknown. Fortunately Pablo found a forlorn 
individual living in a tiny hut on the bank, who indi- 
cated which way lay safety. After an exciting two 
hours we finally got across to the desired shore. 
Animals and men were glad enough to leave the 
high, arid desert and enter the oasis of Caraveli with 
its luscious, green fields of alfalfa, its shady fig trees 
and tall eucalyptus. The air, pungent with the 
smell of rich vegetation, seemed cooler and more 

We found at Caraveli a modern British enterprise, 
the gold mine of "La Victoria." Mr. Prain, the 
Manager, and his associates at the camp gave us a 
cordial welcome, and a wonderful dinner which I 
shall long remember. After two months in the 
coastal desert it seemed like home. During the even- 
ing we learned of the difficulties Mr. Prain had had 
in bringing his machinery across the plateau from 
the nearest port. Our own troubles seemed as 
nothing. The cost of transporting on muleback 
each of the larger pieces of the quartz stamping-mill 
was equivalent to the price of a first-class pack 


mule. As a matter of fact, although it is only a two 
days' journey, pack animals' backs are not built to 
survive the strain of carrying pieces of machinery 
weighing five hundred pounds over a desert plateau 
up to an altitude of 4000 feet. Mules brought the 
machinery from the coast to the brink of the canyon, 
but no mule could possibly have carried it down the 
steep trail into Caraveli. Accordingly, a windlass 
had been constructed on the edge of the precipice 
and the machinery had been lowered, piece by piece, 
by block and tackle. Such was one of the obstacles 
with which these undaunted engineers had had to 
contend. Had the man who designed the machinery 
ever traveled with a pack train, climbing up and 
down over these rocky stairways called mountain 
trails, I am sure that he would have made his cast- 
ings much smaller. 

It is astonishing how often people who ship goods 
to the interior of South America fail to realize that 
no single piece should be any heavier than a pack 
animal can carry comfortably on one side. One hun- 
dred and fifty pounds ought to be the extreme limit 
of a unit. Even a large, strong mule will last only a 
few days on such trails as are shown in the accom- 
panying illustration if the total weight of his cargo 
is over three hundred pounds. When a single piece 
w^eighs more than two hundred pounds it has to be 
balanced on the back of the animal. Then the load 
rocks, and chafes the unfortunate mule, besides 
causing great inconvenience and constant worry to 
the muleteers. As a matter of expediency it is better 
to have the individual units weigh about seventy- 
























five pounds. Such a weight is easier for the arrieros 
to handle in the loading, unloading, and reloading 
that goes on all day long, particularly if the trail 
is up-and-down, as usually happens in the Andes. 
Furthermore, one seventy-five-pound unit makes a 
fair load for a man or a llama, two are right for a 
burro, and three for an average mule. Four can be 
loaded, if necessary, on a stout mule. 

The hospitable mining engineers urged us to pro- 
long our stay at " La Victoria," but we had to hasten 
on. Leaving the pleasant shade trees of Caraveli, we 
climbed the barren, desolate hills of coarse gravel 
and lava rock and left the canyon. We were sur- 
prised to find near the top of the rise the scattered 
foundations of fifty little circular or oval huts av- 
eraging eight feet in diameter. There was no water 
near here. Hardly a green thing of any sort was to 
be seen in the vicinity, yet here had once been a 
village. It seemed to belong to the same period as 
that found on the southern slopes of the Parina- 
cochas Basin. The road was one of the worst we 
encountered anywhere, being at times merely a 
rough, rocky trail over and among huge piles of 
lava blocks. Several of the larger boulders were 
covered with pictographs. They represented a ser- 
pent and a sun, besides men and animals. 

Shortly afterwards we descended to the Rio 
Grande Valley at Callanga, where we pitched our 
camps among the most extensive ruins that I have 
seen in the coastal desert. They covered an area of 
one hundred acres, the houses being crowded closely 
together. It gave one a strange sensation to find 


such a very large metropolis in what is now a deso- 
late region. The general appearance of Callanga was 
strikingly reminiscent of some of the large groups 
of ruins in our own Southwest. Nothing about it 
indicated Inca origin. There were no terraces in the 
vicinity. It is difficult to imagine what such a 
large population could have done here, or how they 
lived. The walls were of compact cobblestones, 
rough-laid and stuccoed with adobe and sand. Most 
of the stucco had come off. Some of the houses had 
seats, or small sleeping-platforms, built up at one 
end. Others contained two or three small cells, 
possibly storerooms, with neither doors nor windows. 
We found a number of burial cists — some square, 
others rounded — lined with small cobblestones. 
In one house, at the foot of "cellar stairs" we 
found a subterranean room, or tomb. The entrance 
to it was covered with a single stone lintel. In 
examining this tomb Mr. Tucker had a narrow 
escape from being bitten by a hoba, a venomous 
snake, nearly three feet in length, with vicious 
mouth, long fangs like a rattlesnake, and a strik- 
ingly mottled skin. At one place there was a low 
pyramid less than ten feet in height. To its top led 
a flight of rude stone steps. 

Among the ruins we found a number of broken 
stone dishes, rudely carved out of soft, highly po- 
rous, scoriaceous lava. The dishes must have been 
hard to keep clean! We also found a small stone 
mortar, probably used for grinding paint; a broken 
stone war club; and a broken compact stone mortar 
and pestle possibly used for grinding corn. Two 


stones, a foot and a half long, roughly rounded, with 
a shallow groove across the middle of the flatter 
sides, resembled sinkers used by fishermen to hold 
down large nets, although ten times larger than any 
I had ever seen used. Perhaps they were to tie down 
roofs in a gale. There were a few potsherds lying 
on the surface of the ground, so weathered as to 
have lost whatever decoration they once had. We 
did no excavating. Callanga off"ers an interesting 
field for archeological investigation. Unfortunately, 
we had heard nothing of it previously, came upon it 
unexpectedly, and had but little time to give it. 
After the first night camp in the midst of the dead 
city we made the discovery that although it seemed 
to be entirely deserted, it was, as a matter of fact, 
well populated ! I was reminded of Professor T. D. 
Seymour's story of his studies in the ruins of ancient 
Greece. We wondered what the fleas live on ordi- 

Our next stopping-place was the small town of 
Andaray, whose thatched houses are built chiefly 
of stone plastered with mud. Near it we encoun- 
tered two men with a mule, which they said they 
were taking into town to sell and were willing to 
dispose of cheaply. The Tejadas could not resist 
the temptation to buy a good animal at a bargain, 
although the circumstances were suspicious. Draw- 
ing on us for six gold sovereigns, they smilingly 
added the new mule to the pack train ; only to dis- 
cover on reaching Chuquibamba that they had 
purchased it from thieves. We were able to clear 
our arrieros of any complicity in the theft. Never- 


theless, the owner of the stolen mule was unwilling 
to pay anything for its return. So they lost their 
bargain and their gold. We spent one night in 
Chuquibamba, with our friend Senor Benavides, 
the sub-prefect, and once more took up the well- 
traveled route to Arequipa. We left the Majes 
Valley in the afternoon and, as before, spent the 
night crossing the desert. 

About three o'clock in the morning — after we had 
been jogging steadily along for about twelve hours 
in the dark and quiet of the night, the only sound 
the shuffle of the mules' feet in the sand, the only 
sight an occasional crescent-shaped dune, dimly 
visible in the starlight — the eastern horizon began 
to be faintly illumined. The moon had long since 
set. Could this be the approach of dawn? Sunrise 
was not due for at least two hours. In the tropics 
there is little twilight preceding the day; "the dawn 
comes up like thunder." Surely the moon could 
not be going to rise again ! What could be the mean- 
ing of the rapidly brightening eastern sky? While 
we watched and marveled, the pure white light grew 
brighter and brighter, until we cried out in ecstasy 
as a dazzling luminary rose majestically above the 
horizon. A splendor, neither of the sun nor of the 
moon, shone upon us. It was the morning star. 
For sheer beauty, "divine, enchanting ravishment," 
Venus that day surpassed anything I have ever 
seen. In the words of the great Eastern poet, who 
had often seen such a sight in the deserts of Asia, 
"the morning stars sang together and all the sons 
of God shouted for joy." 

Chapter v 


AREQUIPA is one of the pleasantest places in 
the world : mountain air, bright sunshine, warm 
days, cool nights, and a sparkling atmosphere dear to 
the hearts of star-gazers. The city lies on a plateau, 
surrounded by mighty snow-capped volcanoes, Cha- 
chani (20,000 ft.), El Misti (19,000 ft.), and Fichu 
Fichu (18,000 ft.). Arequipa has only one night- 
mare — earthquakes. About twice in a century the 
spirits of the sleeping volcanoes stir, roll over, and 
go to sleep again. But they shake the bed! And 
Arequipa rests on their bed. The possibility of a 
" terremoto'' is always present in the subconscious 
mind of the Arequipeno. 

One evening I happened to be dining with a 
friend at the hospitable Arequipa Club. Suddenly 
the windows rattled violently and we heard a loud 
explosion ; at least that is what it sounded like to me. 
To the members of the club, however, it meant only 
one thing — an earthquake. Everybody rushed out ; 
the streets were already crowded with hysterical 
people, crying, shouting, and running toward the 
great open plaza in front of the beautiful cathedral. 
Here some dropped on their knees in gratitude at 
having escaped from falling walls, others prayed to 
the god of earthquakes to spare their city. Yet no 
walls had fallen! In the business district a great 


column of black smoke was rising. Gradually it 
became known to the panic-stricken throngs that 
the noise and the trembling had not been due to an 
earthquake, but to an explosion in a large ware- 
house which had contained gasoline, kerosene, dyna- 
mite and giant powder! 

In this city of 35,000 people, the second largest of 
Peru, fires are so very rare, not even annual, scarcely 
biennial, that there were no fire engines. A bucket 
brigade was formed and tried to quench the roaring 
furnace by dipping water from one of the azequias, or 
canals, that run through the streets. The fire con- 
tinued to belch forth dense masses of smoke and 
flame. In any American city such a blaze would 
certainly become a great conflagration. 

While the fire was at its height I went into the 
adjoining building to see whether any help could be 
rendered. To my utter amazement the surface of 
the wall next to the fiery furnace was not even warm. 
Such is the result of building houses with massive 
walls of stone. Furthermore, the roofs in Arequipa 
are of tiles; consequently no harm was done by 
sparks. So, without a fire department, this really 
terrible fire was limited to one warehouse ! The next 
day the newspapers talked about the "dire neces- 
sity" of securing fire engines. It was difficult for me 
to see what good a fire engine could have done. 
Nothing could have saved the warehouse itself once 
the fire got under way; and surely the houses next 
door would have suffered more had they been 
deluged with streams of water. The facts are almost 
incredible to an American. We take it as a matter of 


course that cities should have fires and explosions. 
In Arequipa everybody thought it was an earth- 
quake ! 

A day's run by an excellent railroad takes one to 
Puno, the chief port of Lake Titicaca, elevation 
12,500 feet. Puno boasts a soldier's monument and 
a new theater, really a "movie palace." There is a 
good harbor, although dredging is necessary to pro- 
vide for steamers like the Inca. Repairs to the lake 
boats are made on a marine — or, rather, a lacus- 
trine — railway. The bay of Puno grows quantities 
of totoras, giant bulrushes sometimes twelve feet 
long. Ages ago the lake dwellers learned to dry the 
totoras, tie them securely in long bundles, fasten 
the bundles together, turn up the ends, fix smaller 
bundles along the sides as a free-board, and so con- 
struct a fishing-boat, or halsa. Of course the balsas 
eventually become water-logged and spend a large 
part of their existence on the shore, drying in the 
sun. Even so, they are not very buoyant. I can 
testify that it is difficult to use them without getting 
one's shoes wet. As a matter of fact one should go 
barefooted, or wear sandals, as the natives do. 

The balsas are clumsy, and difficult to paddle. 
The favorite method of locomotion is to pole or, 
when the wind favors, sail. The mast is an A-shaped 
contraption, twelve feet high, made of two light 
poles tied together and fastened, one to each side of 
the craft, slightly forward of amidships. Poles are 
extremely scarce in this region — lumber has to be 
brought from Puget Sound, 6000 miles away — so 


nearly all the masts I saw were made of small pieces 
of wood spliced two or three times. To the apex of 
the "A" is attached a forked stick, over which run 
the halyards. The rectangular "sail" is nothing 
more nor less than a large mat made of rushes. A 
short forestay fastened to the sides of the "A" about 
four feet above the hull prevents the mast from 
falling when the sail is hoisted. The main halyards 
take the place of a backstay. The balsas cannot beat 
to windward, but behave very well in shallow water 
with a favoring breeze. When the wind is contrary 
the boatmen must pole. They are extremely careful 
not to fall overboard, for the water in the lake is 
cold, 55*^ F., and none of them know how to swim. 
Lake Titicaca itself never freezes over, although 
during the winter ice forms at night on the shallow 
bays and near the shore. 

When the Indians wish to go in the shallowest 
waters they use a very small balsa not over eight 
feet long, barely capable of supporting the weight 
of one man. On the other hand, large balsas con- 
structed for use in crossing the rough waters of the 
deeper portions of the lake are capable of carrying 
a dozen people and their luggage. Once I saw a 
ploughman and his team of oxen being ferried across 
the lake on a bulrush raft. To give greater security 
two balsas are sometimes fastened together in the 
fashion of a double canoe. 

One of the more highly speculative of the Bolivian 
writers, Seiior Posnansky, of La Paz, believes that 
gigantic balsas were used in bringing ten-ton mono- 
liths across the lake to Tiahuanaco. This theory 


is based on the assumption that Titicaca was once 
very much higher than it is now, a hypothesis which 
has not commended itself to modern geologists or 
geographers. Dr. Isaiah Bowman and Professor 
Herbert Gregory, who have studied its geology and 
physiography, have not been able to find any direct 
evidence of former high levels for Lake Titicaca, 
or of its having been connected with the ocean. 

Nevertheless, Senor Posnansky believes that Lake 
Titicaca was once a salt sea which became separated 
from the ocean as the Andes rose. The fact that 
the lake fishes are fresh-water, rather than marine, 
forms does not bother him. Seiior Posnansky pins 
his faith to a small dried seahorse once given him 
by a Titicaca fisherman. He seems to forget that 
dried specimens of marine life, including starfish, 
are frequently offered for sale in the Andes by the 
dealers in primitive medicines who may be found in 
almost every market-place. Probably Senor Pos- 
nansky's seahorse was brought from the ocean by 
some particularly enterprising trader. Although 
starfish are common enough in the Andes and a sea- 
horse has actually found its resting-place in La Paz, 
this does not alter the fact that scientific investiga- 
tors have never found any strictly marine fauna in 
Lake Titicaca. On the other hand, it has two or 
three kinds of edible fresh-water fish. One of them 
belongs to a species found in the Rimac River near 
Lima. It seems to me entirely possible that the 
Incas, with their scorn of the difficulties of carrying 
heavy burdens over seemingly impossible trails, 
might have deliberately transplanted the desirable 


fresh-water fishes of the Rimac River to Lake Titi- 

Polo de Ondegardo, who lived in Cuzco in 1560, 
says that the Incas used to bring fresh fish from the 
sea by special runners, and that "they have records 
in their quipus of the fish having been brought from 
Tumbez, a distance of more than three hundred 
leagues." The actual transference of water jars 
containing the fish would have offered no serious 
obstacle whatever to the Incas, provided the idea 
happened to appeal to them as desirable. Yet I may 
be as far wrong as Senor Posnansky! At any rate, 
the romantic stories of a gigantic inland sea, vastly 
more extensive than the present lake and actually 
surrounding the ancient city of Tiahuanaco, must 
be treated with respectful skepticism. 

Tiahuanaco, at the southern end of Lake Titicaca, 
in Bolivia, is famous for the remains of a pre-Inca 
civilization. Unique among prehistoric remains in 
the highlands of Peru or Bolivia are its carved mono- 
lithic images. Although they have suffered from 
weathering and from vandalism, enough remains to 
show that they represent clothed human figures. 
The richly decorated girdles and long tunics are 
carved in low relief with an intricate pattern. While 
some of the designs are undoubtedly symbolic of 
the rank, achievements, or attributes of the divini- 
ties or chiefs here portrayed, there is nothing hiero- 
glyphic. The images are stiff and show no apprecia- 
tion of the beauty of the human form. Probably the 
ancient artists never had an opportunity to study 
the human body. In Andean villages, even little 


children do not go naked as they do among primitive 
peoples who live in warm climates. The Highland- 
ers of Peru and Bolivia are always heavily clothed, 
day and night. Forced by their climate to seek com- 
fort in the amount and thickness of their apparel, 
they have developed an excessive modesty in regard 
to bodily exposure which is in striking contrast to 
people who live on the warm sands of the South 
Seas. Inca sculptors and potters rarely employed 
the human body as a motif. Tiahuanaco is pre-Inca, 
yet even here the images are clothed. They were not 
represented as clothed in order to make easier the 
work of the sculptor. His carving shows he had 
great skill, was observant, and had true artistic 
feeling. Apparently the taboo against "nakedness" 
was too much for him. 

Among the thirty-six islands in Lake Titicaca, 
some belong to Peru, others to Bolivia. Two of the 
latter, Titicaca and Koati, were peculiarly venerated 
in Inca days. They are covered with artificial 
terraces, most of which are still used by the Indian 
farmers of to-day. On both islands there are ruins of 
important Inca structures. On Titicaca Island I was 
shown two caves, out of which, say the Indians, 
came the sun and moon at their creation. These 
caves are not large enough for a man to stand up- 
right, but to a people who do not appreciate the size 
of the heavenly bodies it requires no stretch of the 
imagination to believe that those bright disks came 
forth from caves eight feet wide. The myth proba- 
bly originated with dwellers on the western shore of 
the lake who would often see the sun or moon rise 


over this island. On an ancient road that runs across 
the island my native guide pointed out the "foot- 
prints of the sun and moon" — two curious effects 
of erosion which bear a distant resemblance to the 
footprints of giants twenty or thirty feet tall. 

The present-day Indians, known as Aymaras, 
seem to be hard-working and fairly cheerful. The 
impression which Bandelier gives, in his " Islands of 
Titicaca and Koati, " of the degradation and surly 
character of these Indians was not apparent at the 
time of my short visit in 1915. It is quite possible, 
however, that if I had to live among the Indians, as 
he did for several months, digging up their ancient 
places of worship, disturbing their superstitious 
prejudices, and possibly upsetting, in their minds, 
the proper balance between wet weather and dry, I 
might have brought upon myself uncivil looks and 
rough, churlish treatment such as he experienced. 
In judging the attitude of mind of the natives of 
Titicaca one should remember that they live under 
most trying conditions of climate and environment. 
During several months of the year everything is 
dried up and parched. The brilliant sun of the 
tropics, burning mercilessly through the rarefied air, 
causes the scant vegetation to wither. Then come 
torrential rains. I shall never forget my first experi- 
ence on Lake Titicaca, when the steamer encount- 
ered a rain squall. The resulting deluge actually 
came through the decks. Needless to say, such 
downpours tend to wash away the soil which the 
farmers have painfully gathered for field or garden. 
The sun in the daytime is extremely hot, yet the 


difference in temperature between sun and shade is 
excessive. Furthermore, the winds at night are very 
damp; the cold is intensely penetrating. Fuel is 
exceedingly scarce, there is barely enough for cook- 
ing purposes, and none for artificial heat. 

Food is hard to get. Few crops can be grown at 
12,500 feet. Some barley is raised, but the soil is 
lacking in nitrogen. The principal crop is the bitter 
v/hite potato, which, after being frozen and dried, 
becomes the insipid chuno, chief reliance of the 
poorer families. The Inca system of bringing guano 
from the islands of the Pacific coast has long since 
been abandoned. There is no money to pay for 
modern fertilizers. Consequently, crops are poor. 
On Titicaca Island I saw native women, who had 
just harvested their maize, engaged in shucking and 
drying ears of corn which varied in length from one 
to three inches. To be sure this miniature corn has 
the advantage of maturing in sixty days, but good 
soil and fertilizers would double its size and pro- 

Naturally these Indians always feel themselves 
at the mercy of the elements. Either a long rainy 
season or a drought may cause acute hunger and 
extreme suffering. Consequently, one must not 
blame the Bolivian or Peruvian Highlander if he 
frequently appears to be sullen and morose. On the 
other hand, one ought not to praise Samoans for be- 
ing happy, hospitable, and light-hearted. Those for- 
tunate Polynesians are surrounded by warm waters 
in which they can always enjoy a swim, trees from 
which delicious food can always be obtained, and 


cocoanuts from which coohng drinks are secured 
without cost. Who could not develop cheerfulness 
under such conditions? 

On the small island, Koati, some of the Inca stone- 
work is remarkably good, and has several unusual 
features, such as the elaboration of the large, re- 
entrant, ceremonial niches formed by step-topped 
arches, one within the other. Small ornamental 
niches are used to break the space between these 
recesses and the upper corners of the whole rec- 
tangle containing them. Also unusual are the niches 
between the doorways, made in the form of an 
elaborate quadrate cross. It might seem at first 
glance as though this feature showed Spanish in- 
fluence, since a Papal cross is created by the shadow 
cast in the intervening recessed courses within their 
design. As a matter of fact, the cross nowy quad- 
rant is a natural outcome of using for ornamental 
purposes the step-shaped design, both erect and 
inverted. All over the land of the Incas one finds 
flights of steps or terraces used repeatedly for orna- 
mental or ceremonial purposes. Some stairs are 
large enough to be used by man; others are in 
miniature. Frequently the steps were cut into the 
sacred boulders consecrated to ancestor worship. 
It was easy for an Inca architect, accustomed to the 
stairway motif, to have conceived these curious 
doorways on Koati and also the cross-like niches 
between them, even if he had never seen any repre- 
sentation of a Papal cross, or a cross nowy quadrant. 
My friend, Mr. Bancel La Farge, has also suggested 
a striking resemblance which the sedilia-like niches 


bear to Arabic or Moorish architecture, as shown, 
for instance, in the Court of the Lions in the Alham- 
bra. The step-topped arch is distinctly Oriental in 
form, yet flights of steps or terraces are also thor- 
oughly Incaic. 

The principal structure on Koati was built around 
three sides of a small plaza, constructed on an arti- 
ficial terrace in a slight depression on the eastern 
side of the island. The fourth side is open and 
affords a magnificent view of the lake and the won- 
derful snow-covered Cordillera Real, 200 miles long 
and nowhere less than 17,000 feet high. This range 
of lofty snow-peaks of surpassing beauty culminates 
in Mt. Sorata, 21,520 feet high. To the worshipers 
of the sun and moon, who came to the sacred islands 
for some of their most elaborate religious ceremo- 
nies, the sight of those heavenly luminaries, rising 
over the majestic snow mountains, their glories 
reflected in the shining waters of the lake, must have 
been a sublime spectacle. On such occasions the 
little plaza would indeed have been worth seeing. 
We may imagine the gayly caparisoned Incas, their 
faces lit up by the colors of "rosy-fingered dawn, 
daughter of the morning," their ceremonial forma- 
tion sharply outlined against the high, decorated 
walls of the buildings behind them. Perhaps the 
rulers and high priests had special stations in front 
of the large, step-topped niches. One may be sure 
that a people who were fond of bright colors, who 
were able to manufacture exquisite textiles, and who 
loved to decorate their garments with spangles and 
disks of beaten gold, would have lost no opportunity 


for making the ancient ceremonies truly resplendent. 
On the peninsula of Copacabana, opposite the 
sacred islands, a great annual pageant is still staged 
every August. Although at present connected with 
a pious pilgrimage to the shrine of the miraculous 
image of the "Virgin of Copacabana," this vivid 
spectacle, the most celebrated fair in all South 
America, has its origin in the dim past. It comes 
after the maize is harvested and corresponds to our 
Thanksgiving festival. The scene is laid in the plaza 
in front of a large, bizarre church. During the first 
ten days in August there are gathered here thou- 
sands of the mountain folk from far and near. Every- 
thing dear to the heart of the Aymara Indian is 
offered for sale, including quantities of his favor- 
ite beverages. Traders, usually women, sit in long 
rows on blankets laid on the cobblestone pavement. 
Some of them are protected from the sun by primi- 
tive umbrellas, consisting of a square cotton sheet 
stretched over a bamboo frame. In one row are those 
traders who sell parched and popped corn; in an- 
other those who deal in sandals and shoes, the simple 
gear of the humblest wayfarer and the elaborately 
decorated high-laced boots affected by the wealthy 
Chola women of La Paz. In another row are the 
dealers in Indian blankets; still another is devoted 
to such trinkets as one might expect to find in a 
" needle-and-thread " shop at home. There are 
stolid Aymara peddlers with scores of bamboo flutes 
varying in size from a piccolo to a bassoon ; the hat 
merchants, with piles of freshly made native felts, 
warranted to last for at least a year; and vendors of 


aniline dyes. The fabrics which have come to us 
from Inca times are colored with beautifully soft 
vegetable dyes. Among Inca ruins one may find 
small stone mortars, in which the primitive pig- 
ments were ground and mixed with infinite care. 
Although the modern Indian still prefers the product 
of hand looms, he has been quick to adopt the harsh 
aniline dyes, which are not only easier to secure, 
but produce more striking results. 

As a citizen of Connecticut it gave me quite a 
start to see, carelessly exposed to the weather on 
the rough cobblestones of the plaza, bright new 
hardware from New Haven and New Britain — 
locks, keys, spring scales, bolts, screw eyes, hooks, 
and other "wooden nutmegs." 

At the tables of the "money-changers," just out- 
side of the sacred enclosure, are the real money- 
makers, who give nothing for something. Thimble- 
riggers and three-card-monte-men do a brisk busi- 
ness and stand ready to fleece the guileless native or 
the unsuspecting foreigner. The operators may wear 
ragged ponchos and appear to be incapable of deep 
designs, but they know all the tricks of the trade! 
The most striking feature of the fair is the presence 
of various Aymara secret societies, whose members, 
wearing repulsive masks, are clad in the most extra- 
ordinary costumes which can be invented by primi- 
tive imaginations. Each society has its own uni- 
form, made up of tinsels and figured satins, tin-foil, 
gold and silver leaf, gaudy textiles, magnificent 
epaulets bearing large golden stars on a background 
of silver decorated with glittering gems of colored 


glass; tinted "ostrich" plumes of many colors 
sticking straight up eighteen inches above the heads 
of their wearers, gaudy ribbons, beruffled bodices, 
puffed sleeves, and slashed trunks. Some of these 
strange costumes are actually reminiscent of the 
sixteenth century. The wearers are provided with 
flutes, whistles, cymbals, flageolets, snare drums, and 
rattles, or other noise-makers. The result is an inde- 
scribable hubbub ; a garish human kaleidoscope, ac- 
companied by fiendish clamor and unmusical noises 
which fairly outstrip a dozen jazz bands. It is bed- 
lam let loose, a scene of wild uproar and confusion. 

The members of one group were dressed to repre- 
sent female angels, their heads tightly turbaned so 
as to bear the maximum number of tall, waving, va- 
riegated plumes. On their backs were gaudy wings 
resembling the butterflies of children's pantomimes. 
Many wore colored goggles. They marched sol- 
emnly around the plaza, playing on bamboo flageo- 
lets, their plaintive tunes drowned in the din of 
big bass drums and blatant trumpets. In an eddy in 
the seething crowd was a placid-faced Aymara, be- 
decked in the most tawdry manner with gewgaws 
from Birmingham or Manchester, sedately playing 
a melancholy tune on a rustic syrinx or Pan's pipe, 
charmingly made from little tubes of bamboo from 
eastern Bolivia. 

At the close of the festival, on a Sunday afternoon, 
the costumes disappear and there occurs a bull- 
baiting. Strong temporary barriers are erected at 
the corners of the plaza; householders bar their 
doors. A riotous crowd, composed of hundreds of 


pleasure-seekers, well fortified with Dutch courage, 
gathers for the fray. All are ready to run helter- 
skelter in every direction should the bull take it into 
his head to charge toward them. It is not a bull- 
fight. There are no picadors, armed with lances to 
prick the bull to madness; no banderilleros, with 
barbed darts ; no heroic matador, ready with shining 
blade to give a mad and weary bull the coup de 
grace. Here all is fun and frolic. To be sure, the bull 
is duly annoyed by boastful boys or drunken Ay- 
maras, who prod him with sticks and shake bright 
ponchos in his face until he dashes after his torment- 
ors and causes a mighty scattering of some specta- 
tors, amid shrieks of delight from everybody else. 
When one animal gets tired, another is brought on. 
There is no chance of a bull being wounded or seri- 
ously hurt. At the time of our visit the only animal 
who seemed at all anxious to do real damage was let 
alone. He showed no disposition to charge at ran- 
dom into the crowds. The spectators surrounded 
the plaza so thickly that he could not distinguish 
any one particular enemy on whom to vent his rage. 
He galloped madly after any individual who crossed 
the plaza. Five or six bulls were let loose during the 
excitement, but no harm was done, and every one 
had an uproariously good time. 

Such is the spectacle of Copacabana, a mixture 
of business and pleasure, pagan and Christian, Spain 
and Titicaca. Bedlam is not pleasant to one's ears; 
yet to see the staid mountain herdsmen, attired in 
plumes, petticoats, epaulets, and goggles, blowing 
mightily with puffed-out lips on bamboo flageolets, 
is worth a long journey. 



IN the northernmost part of the Titicaca Basin are 
the grassy foothills of the Cordillera Vilcanota, 
where large herds of alpacas thrive on the sweet, 
tender pasturage. Santa Rosa is the principal town. 
Here wool-buyers come to bid for the clip. The high 
prices which alpaca fleece commands have brought 
prosperity. Excellent blankets, renowned in south- 
ern Peru for their weight and texture, are made 
here on hand looms. Notwithstanding the altitude 
— nearly as great as the top of Pike's Peak — the 
stocky inhabitants of Santa Rosa are hardy, vig- 
orous, and energetic. Ricardo Charaja, the best 
Quichua assistant we ever had, came from Santa 
Rosa. Nearly all the citizens are of pure Indian 

They own many fine llamas. There is abundant 
pasturage and the llamas are well cared for by the 
Indians, who become personally attached to their 
flocks and are loath to part with any of the indi- 
viduals. Once I attempted through a Cuzco ac- 
quaintance to secure the skin and skeleton of a fine 
llama for the Yale Museum. My friend was favor- 
ably known and spoke the Quichua language flu- 
ently. He offered a good price and obtained from 
various llama owners promises to bring the hide and 


bones of one of their "camels" for shipment; but 
they never did. Apparently they regarded it as 
unlucky to kill a llama, and none happened to die 
at the right time. The llamas never show affection 
for their masters, as horses often do. On the other 
hand I have never seen a llama kick or bite at his 

The llama was the only beast of burden known in 
either North or South America before Columbus. 
It was found by the Spaniards in all parts of Inca 
Land. Its small two- toed feet, with their rough 
pads, enable it to walk easily on slopes too rough or 
steep for even a nimble-footed, mountain-bred mule. 
It has the reputation of being an unpleasant pet, 
due to its ability to sneeze or spit for a considerable 
distance a small quantity of acrid saliva. When I 
was in college Barnum's Circus came to town. The 
menagerie included a dozen llamas, whose super- 
cilious expression, inoffensive looks, and small size 
— they are only three feet high at the shoulder — 
tempted some little urchins to tease them. When 
the llamas felt that the time had come for reprisals, 
their aim was straight and the result a precipitate 
retreat. Their tormentors, howling and rubbing 
their eyes, had to run home and wash their faces. 
Curiously enough, in the two years which I have 
spent in the Peruvian highlands I have never seen a 
llama so attack a single human being. On the other 
hand, when I was in Santa Rosa in 191 5 some one 
had a tame vicufia which was perfectly willing to 
sneeze straight at any stranger who came within 
twenty feet of it, even if one's motive was nothing 


more annoying than scientific curiosity. The vicuna 
is the smallest American "camel," yet its long, 
slender neck, small head, long legs, and small body, 
from which hangs long, feathery fleece, make it look 
more like an ostrich than a camel. 

In the churchyard of Santa Rosa are two or three 
gnarled trees which have been carefully preserved 
for centuries as objects of respect and veneration. 
Some travelers have thought that 14,000 feet is 
above the tree line, but the presence of these trees 
at Santa Rosa would seem to show that the use of 
the words "tree line" is a misnomer in the Andes. 
Mr. Cook believes that the Peruvian plateau, with 
the exception of the coastal deserts, was once well 
covered with forests. When man first came into the 
Andes, everything except rocky ledges, snow fields, 
and glaciers was covered with forest growth. Al- 
though many districts are now entirely treeless, Mr. 
Cook found that the conditions of light, heat, and 
moisture, even at the highest elevations, are suffi- 
cient to support the growth of trees; also that there 
is ample fertility of soil. His theories are well sub- 
stantiated by several isolated tracts of forests which 
I found growing alongside of glaciers at very high 
elevations. One forest in particular, on the slopes of 
Mt. Soiroccocha, has been accurately determined 
by Mr. Bumstead to be over 15,000 feet above sea 
level. It is cut off from the inhabited valley by rock 
falls and precipices, so it has not been available for 
fuel. Virgin forests are not known to exist In the 
Peruvian highlands on any lands which could have 
been cultivated. A certain amount of natural re- 


forestation with native trees is taking place on 
abandoned agricultural terraces in some of the high 
valleys. Although these trees belong to many differ- 
ent species and families, Mr. Cook found that they 
all have this striking peculiarity — when cut down 
they sprout readily from the stumps and are able to 
survive repeated pollarding ; remarkable evidence of 
the fact that the primeval forests of Peru were long 
ago cut down for fuel or burned over for agriculture. 
Near the Santa Rosa trees is a tall bell-tower. 
The sight of a picturesque belfry with four or five 
bells of different sizes hanging each in its respective 
window makes a strong appeal. It is quite otherwise 
on Sunday mornings when these same bells, "out of 
tune with themselves," or actually cracked, are all 
rung at the same time. The resulting clangor and 
din is unforgettable. I presume the Chinese would 
say it was intended to drive away the devils — and 
surely such noise must be " thoroughly uncongen- 
ial even to the most irreclaimable devil," as Lord 
Frederick Hamilton said of the Canton practices. 
Church bells in the United States and England are 
usually sweet-toned and intended to invite the 
hearer to come to service, or else they ring out in 
joyous peals to announce some festive occasion. 
There is nothing inviting or joyous about the bells 
in southern Peru. Once in a while one may hear a 
bell of deep, sweet tone, like that of the great bell in 
Cuzco, which is tolled when the last sacrament is 
being administered to a dying Christian; but the 
general idea of bell-ringers in this part of the world 
seems to be to make the greatest possible amount 


of racket and clamor. On popular saints' days this 
is accompanied by firecrackers, aerial bombs, and 
other noise-making devices which again remind one 
of Chinese folkways. Perhaps it is merely that fun- 
damental fondness for making a noise which is found 
in all healthy children. 

On Sunday afternoon the plaza of Santa Rosa was 
well filled with Quichua holiday-makers, many of 
whom had been imbibing freely of chicha, a mild 
native brew usually made from ripe corn. The 
crowd was remarkably good-natured and given to an 
unusual amount of laughter and gayety. For them 
Sunday is truly a day of rest, recreation, and so- 
ciability. On week days, most of them, even the 
smaller boys, are off on the mountain pastures, 
watching the herds whose wool brings prosperity 
to Santa Rosa. One sometimes finds the mountain 
Indians on Sunday afternoon sodden, thoroughly 
soaked with chicha, and inclined to resent the pres- 
ence of inquisitive strangers; not so these good folk 
of Santa Rosa. 

To be sure, the female vendors of eggs, potatoes, 
peppers, and sundry native vegetables, squatting 
in two long rows on the plaza, did not enjoy being 
photographed, but the men and boys crowded 
eagerly forward, very much interested in my endeav- 
ors. Some of the Indian alcaldes, local magistrates 
elected yearly to serve as the responsible officials for 
villages or tribal precincts, were very helpful and, 
armed with their large, silver-mounted staffs of 
office, tried to bring the shy, retiring women of the 
market-place to stand in a frightened, disgruntled, 




barefooted group before the camera. The women 
were dressed in the customary tight bodices, heavy 
woolen skirts, and voluminous petticoats of the 
plateau. Over their shoulders were pinned heavy 
woolen shawls, woven on hand looms. On their 
heads were reversible "pancake" hats made of 
straw, covered on the wet-weather side with coarse 
woolen stuff and on the fair-weather side with tinsel 
and velveteen. In accordance with local custom, 
tassels and fringes hung down on both sides. It is 
said that the first Inca ordered the dresses of each 
village to be different, so that his officials might 
know to which tribe an Indian belonged. It was 
only with great difficulty and by the combined 
efforts of a good-natured priest, the gobernador or 
mayor, and the alcaldes that a dozen very reluctant 
females were finally persuaded to face the camera. 
The expression of their faces was very eloquent. 
Some were highly indignant, others looked foolish or 
supercilious, two or three were thoroughly fright- 
ened, not knowing what evil might befall them next. 
Not one gave any evidence of enjoying it or taking 
the matter as a good joke, although that was the 
attitude assumed by all their male acquaintances. 
In fact, some of the men were so anxious to have 
their pictures taken that they followed us about 
and posed on the edge of every group. 

Men and boys all wore knitted woolen caps, with 
ear flaps, which they seldom remove either day or 
night. On top of these were large felt hats, turned 
up in front so as to give a bold aspect to their husky 
wearers. Over their shoulders were heavy woolen 


ponchos, decorated with bright stripes. Their trou- 
sers end abruptly halfway between knee and ankle, 
a convenient style for herdsmen who have to walk 
in the long, dewy grasses of the plateau. These 
"high-water" pantaloons do not look badly when 
worn with sandals, as Is the usual custom ; but since 
this was Sunday all the well-to-do men had put on 
European boots, which did not come up to the bot- 
tom of their trousers and produced a singular effect, 
hardly likely to become fashionable. 

The prosperity of the town was also shown by 
corrugated iron roofs. Far less picturesque than 
thatch or tile, they require less attention and give 
greater satisfaction during the rainy season. They 
can also be securely bolted to the rafters. On this 
wind-swept plateau we frequently noticed that a 
thatched roof was held in place by ropes passed 
over the house and weights resting on the roof. 
Sometimes to the peak of a gable are fastened 
crosses, tiny flags, or the skulls of animals — proba- 
bly to avert the Evil Eye or bring good luck. 
Horseshoes do not seem to be in demand. Horses* 
skulls, however, are deemed very efficacious. 

On the rim of the Titicaca Basin Is La Raya. 
The watershed is so level that it Is almost Impossible 
to say whether any particular raindrop will even- 
tually find itself in Lake Titicaca or in the Atlantic 
Ocean. The water from a spring near the railroad 
station of Araranca flows definitely to the north. 
This spring may be said to be one of the sources of 
the Urubamba River, an Important affluent of the 
Ucayall and also of the Amazon, but I never have 


heard it referred to as "the source of the Amazon" 
except by an adventurous lecturer, Captain Blank, 
whose moving picture entertainment bore the allur- 
ing title, "From the Source to the Mouth of the 
Amazon." As most of his pictures of wild animals 
"in the jungle" looked as though they were taken 
in the zoological gardens at Para, and the exciting 
tragedies of his canoe trip were actually staged near 
a friendly hacienda at Santa Ana, less than a week's 
journey from Cuzco, it is perhaps unnecessary to 
censure him for giving this particular little spring 
such a pretentious title. 

The Urubamba River is known by various names 
to the people who live on its banks. The upper 
portion is sometimes spoken of as the Vilcanota, a 
term which applies to a lake as well as to the snow- 
covered peaks of the cordillera in this vicinity. 
The lower portion was called by the Incas the 
Uilca or the Uilcamayu. 

Near the water-parting of La Raya I noticed the 
remains of an interesting wall which may have 
served centuries ago to divide the Incas of Cuzco 
from the Collas or warlike tribes of the Titicaca 
Basin. In places the wall has been kept in repair by 
the owners of grazing lands, but most of it can be 
but dimly traced across the valley and up the neigh- 
boring slopes to the cliffs of the Cordillera Vilcanota. 
It was built of rough stones. Near the historic wall 
are the ruins of ancient houses, possibly once occu- 
pied by an Inca garrison. I observed no ashlars 
among the ruins nor any evidence of careful ma- 
sonry. It seems to me likely that it was a hastily 


thrown-up fortification serving for a single military 
campaign, rather than any permanent affair like the 
Roman wall of North Britain or the Great Wall of 
China. We know from tradition that war was fre- 
quently waged between the peoples of the Titicaca 
Basin and those of the Urubamba and Cuzco val- 
leys. It is possible that this is a relic of one of those 

On the other hand, it may be much older than the 
Incas. Montesinos,^ one of the best early histori- 
ans, tells us of Titu Yupanqui, Pachacuti VI, sixty- 
second of the Peruvian Amautas, rulers who long 
preceded the Incas. Against Pachacuti VI there 
came (about 800 A.D.) large hordes of fierce sol- 
diers from the south and east, laying waste fields 
and capturing cities and towns ; evidently barbarian 
migrations which appear to have continued for some 
time. During these wars the ancient civilization, 
which had been built up with so much care and diffi- 

' Fernando Montesinos, an ecclesiastical lawyer of the seventeenth 
century, appears to have gone to Peru in 1629 as the follower of that 
well-known viceroy, the Count of Chinchon, whose wife having 
contracted malaria was cured by the use of Peruvian bark or quinine 
and was instrumental in the introduction of this medicine into 
Europe, a fact which has been commemorated in the botanical name 
of the genus cinchona. Montesinos was well educated and appears to 
have given himself over entirely to historical research. He traveled 
extensively in Peru and wrote several books. His history of the 
Incas was spoiled by the introduction, in which, as might have been 
expected of an orthodox lawyer, he contended that Peru was peopled 
under the leadership of Ophir, the great-grandson of Noah ! Never- 
theless, one finds his work to be of great value and the late Sir 
Clements Markham, foremost of English students of Peruvian 
archeology, was inclined to place considerable credence in his state- 
ments. His account of pre-Hispanic Peru has recently been edited 
for the Hakluyt Society by Mr. Philip A. Means of Harvard Uni- 


culty during the preceding twenty centuries, was 
seriously threatened. Pachacuti VI, more rehgious 
than wariike, ruler of a people whose great achieve- 
ments had been agricultural rather than military, 
was frightened by his soothsayers and priests; they 
told him of many bad omens. Instead of inducing 
him to follow a policy of military preparedness, he 
was urged to make sacrifices to the deities. Never- 
theless he ordered his captains to fortify the strate- 
gic points and make preparations for defense. The 
invaders may have come from Argentina. It is 
possible that they were spurred on by hunger and 
famine caused by the gradual exhaustion of forested 
areas and the subsequent spread of untillable grass- 
lands on the great pampas. Montesinos indicates 
that many of the people who came up into the high- 
lands at that time were seeking arable lands for 
their crops and were "fleeing from a race of giants" 
— possibly Patagonians or Araucanians — who had 
expelled them from their own lands. On their 
journey they had passed over plains, swamps, and 
jungles. It is obvious that a great readjustment of 
the aborigines was in progress. The governors of the 
districts through which these hordes passed were 
not able to summon enough strength to resist them. 
Pachacuti VI assembled the larger part of his army 
near the pass of La Raya and awaited the approach 
of the enemy. If the accounts given in Montesinos 
are true, this wall near La Raya may have been 
built about iioo years ago, by the chiefs who were 
told to "fortify the strategic points." 

Certainly the pass of La Raya, long the gateway 


from the Titicaca Basin to the important cities and 
towns of the Urubamba Basin, was the key to the 
situation. It is probable that Pachacuti VI drew up 
his army behind this wall. His men were undoubt- 
edly armed with slings, the weapon most familiar 
to the highland shepherds. The invaders, however, 
carried bows and arrows, more effective arms, 
swifter, more difficult to see, less easy to dodge. As 
Pachacuti VI was carried over the field of battle on a 
golden stretcher, encouraging his men, he was killed 
by an arrow. His army was routed. Montesinos 
states that only five hundred escaped. Leaving be- 
hind their wounded, they fled to "Tampu-tocco," 
a healthy place where there was a cave, in which 
they hid the precious body of their ruler. Most 
writers believe this to be at Paccaritampu where 
there are caves under an interesting carved rock. 
There is no place in Peru to-day which still bears the 
name of Tampu-tocco. To try and identify it with 
some of the ruins which do exist, and whose modern 
names are not found in the early Spanish writers, 
has been one of the principal objects of my expedi- 
tions to Peru, as will be described in subsequent 

Near the watershed of La Raya we saw great 
flocks of sheep and alpacas, numerous corrals, and 
the thatched-roofed huts of herdsmen. The Quichua 
women are never idle. One often sees them engaged 
in the manufacture of textiles — shawls, girdles, 
ponchos, and blankets — on hand looms fastened to 
stakes driven into the ground. When tending flocks 
or walking along the road they are always winding 




or spinning yarn. Even the men and older children 
are sometimes thus engaged. The younger children, 
used as shepherds as soon as they reach the age of 
six or seven, are rarely expected to do much except 
watch their charges. Some of them were accom- 
panied by long-haired suncca shepherd dogs, as large 
as Airedales, but very cowardly, given to barking 
and slinking away. It is claimed that the sunccas, 
as well as two other varieties, were domesticated by 
the Incas. None of them showed any desire to make 
the acquaintance of "Checkers," my faithful Aire- 
dale. Their masters, however, were always inter- 
ested to see that "Checkers" could understand 
English. They had never seen a dog that could 
understand anything but Quichua! 

On the hillside near La Raya, Mr. Cook, Mr. Gil- 
bert, and I visited a healthy potato field at an ele- 
vation of 14,500 feet, a record altitude for potatoes. 
When commencing to plough or spade a potato field 
on the high slopes near here, it is the custom of the 
Indians to mark it off into squares, by "furrows" 
about fifteen feet apart. The Quichuas commence 
their task soon after daybreak. Due to the absence 
of artificial lighting and the discomfort of rising in 
the bitter cold before dawn, their wives do not pre- 
pare breakfast before ten o'clock, at which time it 
is either brought from home in covered earthenware 
vessels or cooked in the open fields near where the 
men are working. 

We came across one energetic landowner super- 
vising a score or more of Indians who were engaged 
in "ploughing" a potato field. Although he was 


dressed in European garb and was evidently a man 
of means and intelligence, and near the railroad, 
there were no modern implements in sight. We 
found that it is difficult to get Indians to use any 
except the implements of their ancestors. The pro- 
cess of "ploughing" this field was undoubtedly one 
that had been used for centuries, probably long 
before the Spanish Conquest. The men, working in 
unison and in a long row, each armed with a primi- 
tive spade or "foot plough," to the handle of which 
footholds were lashed, would, at a signal, leap for- 
ward with a shout and plunge their spades into the 
turf. Facing each pair of men was a girl or woman 
whose duty it was to turn the clods over by hand. 
The men had taken off their ponchos, so as to se- 
cure greater freedom of action, but the women were 
fully clothed as usual, modesty seeming to require 
them even to keep heavy shawls over their shoul- 
ders. Although the work was hard and painful, the 
toil was lightened by the joyous contact of com- 
munity activity. Every one worked with a will. 
There appeared to be a keen desire among the 
workers to keep up with the procession. Those who 
fell behind were subjected to good-natured teas- 
ing. Community work is sometimes pleasant, even 
though it appears to require a strong directing hand. 
The "boss" was right there. Such practices would 
never suit those who love independence. 

In the centuries of Inca domination there was 
little opportunity for individual effort. Private 
property was not understood. Everything belonged 
to the government. The crops were taken by the 


priests, the Incas and the nobles. The people were 
not as unhappy as we should be. One seldom had to 
labor alone. Everything was done in common. 
When it was time to cultivate the fields or to harvest 
the crops, the laborers were ordered by the Incas to 
go forth in huge family parties. They lessened the 
hardships of farm labor by village gossip and choral 
singing, interspersed at regular intervals with rest 
periods, in which quantities of chicha quenched the 
thirst and cheered the mind. 

Habits of community work are still shown in the 
Andes. One often sees a score or more of Indians 
carrying huge bundles of sheaves of wheat or barley. 
I have found a dozen yoke of oxen, each a few yards 
from the other in a parallel line, engaged in plough- 
ing synchronously small portions of a large field. 
Although the landlords frequently visit Lima and 
sometimes go to Paris and New York, where they 
purchase for their own use the products of modem 
invention, the fields are still cultivated in the fashion 
introduced three centuries ago by the conquistador es, 
who brought the first draft animals and the primi- 
tive pointed plough of the ancient Mediterranean. 

Crops at La Raya are not confined to potatoes. 
Another food plant, almost unknown to Europeans, 
even those who live in Lima, is canihua, a kind of 
pigweed. It was being harvested at the time of our 
visit in April. The threshing floor for canihua is a 
large blanket laid on the ground. On top of this the 
stalks are placed and the flail applied, the blanket 
serving to prevent the small grayish seeds from 
escaping. The entire process uses nothing of Eu- 


ropean origin and has probably not changed for 

We noticed also quinoa and even barley growing at 
an elevation of 14,000 feet. Quinoa is another spe- 
cies of pigweed. It often attains a height of three 
to four feet. There are several varieties. The white- 
seeded variety, after being boiled, may be fairly com- 
pared with oatmeal. Mr. Cook actually preferred it 
to the Scotch article, both for taste and texture. 
The seeds retain their form after being cooked and 
"do not appear so slimy as oatmeal." Other va- 
rieties of quinoa are bitter and have to be boiled sev- 
eral times, the water being frequently changed. The 
growing quinoa presents an attractive appearance; 
its leaves assume many colors. 

As we went down the valley the evidences of 
extensive cultivation, both ancient and modern, 
steadily increased. Great numbers of old terraces 
were to be seen. There were many fields of wheat, 
some of them growing high up on the mountain side 
in what are called temporales, where, owing to the 
steep slope, there is little effort at tillage or cultiva- 
tion, the planter trusting to luck to get some kind of 
a crop in reward for very little effort. On April 14th, 
just above Sicuani, we saw fields where habas beans 
had been gathered and the dried stalks piled in 
little stacks. At Occobamba, or the pampa where 
oca grows, we found fields of that useful tuber, just 
now ripening. Near by were little thatched shelters, 
erected for the temporary use of night watchmen 
during the harvest season. 

The Peruvian highlanders whom we met by the 


roadside were different in feature, attitude, and 
clothing from those of the Titicaca Basin or even of 
Santa Rosa, which is not far away. They were 
typical Quichuas — peaceful agriculturists — usu- 
ally spinning wool on the little hand spindles which 
have been used in the Andes from time immemorial. 
Their huts are built of adobe, the roofs thatched 
with coarse grass. 

The Quichuas are brown in color. Their hair is 
straight and black. Gray hair is seldom seen. It is 
the custom among the men in certain localities to 
wear their hair long and braided. Beards are sparse 
or lacking. Bald heads are very rare. Teeth seem to 
be more enduring than with us. Throughout the 
Andes the frequency of well-preserved teeth was 
everywhere noteworthy except on sugar plantations, 
where there is opportunity to indulge freely in crude 
brown sugar nibbled from cakes or mixed with 
parched corn and eaten as a travel ration. 

The Quichua face is broad and short. Its breadth 
is nearly the same as the Eskimo. Freckles are not 
common and appear to be limited to face and arms, 
in the few cases in which they were observed. On 
the other hand, a large proportion of the Indians are 
pock-marked and show the effects of living in a 
country which is "free from medical tyranny." 
There is no compulsory vaccination. 

One hardly ever sees a fat Quichua. It is difficult 
to tell whether this is a racial characteristic or due 
rather to the lack of fat-producing foods in their diet. 
Although the Peruvian highlander has made the 
best use he could of the llama, he was never able to 


develop its slender legs and weak back sufficiently 
to use it for loads weighing more than eighty or a 
hundred pounds. Consequently, for the carrying of 
really heavy burdens he had to depend on himself. 
As a result, it is not surprising to learn from Dr. 
Ferris that while his arms are poorly developed, his 
shoulders are broader, his back muscles stronger, 
and the calves of his legs larger and more powerful 
than those of almost any other race. 

The Quichuas are fond of shaking hands. When a 
visiting Indian joins a group he nearly always goes 
through the gentle ceremony with each person in 
turn. I do not know whether this was introduced by 
the Spaniards or comes down from prehistoric times. 
In any event, this handshaking in no way resembles 
the hearty clasp familiar to undergraduates at the 
beginning of the college year. As a matter of fact 
the Quichua handshake is extremely fishy and lacks 
cordiality. In testing the hand grip of the Quichuas 
by a dynamometer our surgeons found that the 
muscles of the forearm were poorly developed in the 
Quichua and the maximum grip was weak in both 
sexes, the average for the man being only about half 
of that found among American white adults of 
sedentary habits. 

Dr. Ales Hrdlicka believes that the aboriginal races 
of North and South America were of the same stock. 
The wide differences in physiognomy observable 
among the different tribes in North and South 
America are perhaps due to their environmental 
history during the past 10,000 or 20,000 years. 
Mr. Frank Chapman, of the American Museum of 


Natural History, has pointed out the interesting 
biological fact that animals and birds found at sea 
level in the cold regions of Tierra del Fuego, while 
not found at sea level in Peru, do exist at very high 
altitudes, where the climate is similar to that with 
which they are acquainted. Similarly, it is interest- 
ing to learn that the inhabitants of the cold, lofty 
regions of southern Peru, living in towns and villages 
at altitudes of from 9000 to 14,000 feet above the 
sea, have physical peculiarities closely resembling 
those living at sea level in Tierra del Fuego, Alaska, 
and Labrador. Dr. Ferris says the Labrador Eskimo 
and the Quichua constitute the two "best-known 
short-stature races on the American continent." 

So far as we could learn by questions and ob- 
servation, about one quarter of the Quichuas are 
childless. In families which have children the aver- 
age number is three or four. Large families are not 
common, although we generally learned that the 
living children in a family usually represented less 
than half of those which had been born. Infant 
mortality is very great. The proper feeding of chil- 
dren is not understood and it is a marvel how any of 
them manage to grow up at all. 

Coughs and bronchial trouble are very common 
among the Indians. In fact, the most common afflic- 
tions of the tableland are those of the throat and 
lungs. Pneumonia is the most serious and most to 
be dreaded of all local diseases. It is really terrify- 
ing. Due to the rarity of the air and relative scar- 
city of oxygen, pneumonia is usually fatal at 8000 
feet and is uniformly so at 11,000 feet. Patients 


are frequently ill only twenty-four hours. Tubercu- 
losis is fairly common, its prevalence undoubtedly 
caused by the living conditions practiced among the 
highlanders, who are unwilling to sleep in a room 
which is not tightly closed and protected against 
any possible intrusion of fresh air. In the warmer 
valleys, where bodily comfort has led the natives to 
use huts of thatch and open reeds, instead of the 
air-tight hovels of the cold, bleak plateau, tubercu- 
losis is seldom seen. Of course, there are no "boards 
of health," nor are the people bothered by being 
obliged to conform to any sanitary regulations. 
Water supplies are so often contaminated that the 
people have learned to avoid drinking it as far as 
possible. Instead, they eat quantities of soup. 

In the market-place of Sicuani, the largest town 
in the valley, and the border-line between the 
potato-growing uplands and lowland maize fields, 
we attended the famous Sunday market. Many 
native "druggists" were present. Their stock usu- 
ally consisted of "medicines," whose efficacy was 
learned by the Incas. There were forty or fifty 
kinds of simples and curiosities, cure-alls, and spe- 
cifics. Fully half were reported to me as being "use- 
ful against fresh air" or the evil effects of drafts. 
The "medicines" included such minerals as iron ore 
and sulphur; such vegetables as dried seeds, roots, 
and the leaves of plants domesticated hundreds of 
years ago by the Incas or gathered in the tropical 
jungles of the lower Urubamba Valley; and such 
animals as starfish brought from the Pacific Ocean. 
Some of them were really useful herbs, while others 


have only a psychopathic effect on the patient. 
Each medicine was in an attractive httle parti- 
colored woolen bag. The bags, differing in design 
and color, woven on miniature hand looms, were 
arranged side by side on the ground, the upper parts 
turned over and rolled down so as to disclose the 

Not many miles below Sicuani, at a place called 
Racche, are the remarkable ruins of the so-called 
Temple of Viracocha, described by Squier. At first 
sight Racche looks as though there were here a row 
of nine or ten lofty adobe piers, forty or fifty feet 
high! Closer inspection, however, shows them all 
to be parts of the central wall of a great temple. 
The wall is pierced with large doors and the spaces 
between the doors are broken by niches, narrower 
at the top than at the bottom. There are small holes 
in the doorposts for bar-holds. The base of the 
great wall is about five feet thick and is of stone. 
The ashlars are beautifully cut and, while not 
rectangular, are roughly squared and fitted together 
with most exquisite care, so as to insure their mak- 
ing a very firm foundation. Their surface is most 
attractive, but, strange to say, there is unmistak- 
able evidence that the builders did not wish the 
stonework to show. This surface was at one time 
plastered with clay, a very significant fact. The 
builders wanted the wall to seem to be built entirely 
of adobe, yet, had the great clay wall rested on the 
ground, floods and erosion might have succeeded in 
undermining it. Instead, it rests securely on a 
beautifully built foundation of solid masonry. Even 


so, the great wall does not stand absolutely true, but 
leans slightly to the westward. The wall also seems 
to be less weathered on the west side. Probably the 
prevailing or strongest wind is from the east. 

An interesting feature of the ruins is a round 
column about twenty feet high — a very rare occur- 
rence in Inca architecture. It also is of adobe, on a 
stone foundation. There is only one column now 
standing. In Squier's day the remains of others were 
to be seen, but I could find no evidences of them. 
There was probably a double row of these columns 
to support the stringers and tiebeams of the roof. 
Apparently one end of a tiebeam rested on the cir- 
cular column and the other end was embedded In the 
main wall. The holes where the tiebeams entered 
the wall have stone lintels. 

Near the ruins of the great temple are those of 
other buildings, also unique, so far as I know. The 
base of the party wall, decorated with large niches, 
is of cut ashlars carefully laid ; the middle course is 
of adobe, while the upper third is of rough, uncut 
stones. It looks very odd now but was originally 
covered with fine clay or stucco. In several cases the 
plastered walls are still standing, in fairly good con- 
dition, particularly where they have been sheltered 
from the weather. 

The chief marvel of Racche, however, is the great 
adobe wall of the temple, which is nearly fifty feet 
high. It is slowly disintegrating, as might be ex- 
pected. The wonder is that it should have stood so 
long in a rainy region without any roof or protect- 
ing cover. It is incredible that for at least five 


hundred years a wall of sun-dried clay should have 
been able to defy severe rainstorms. The lintels, 
made of hard-wood timbers and partially embedded 
in the wall, are all gone; yet the adobe remains. It 
would be very interesting to find out whether the 
water of the springs near the temple contains lime. 
If so this might have furnished natural calcareous 
cement in sufficient quantity to give the clay a par- 
ticularly tenacious quality, able to resist weathering. 
The factors which have caused this extraordinary 
adobe wall to withstand the weather in such an 
exposed position for so many centuries, notwith- 
standing the heavy rains of each summer season 
from December to March, are worthy of further 

It has been claimed that this temple was devoted 
to the worship of Viracocha, a great deity, the Jove 
or Zeus of the ancient pantheon. It seems to me 
more reasonable to suppose that a primitive folk 
constructed here a temple to the presiding divinity 
of the place, the god who gave them this precious 
clay. The principal industry of the neighboring 
village is still the manufacture of pottery. No better 
clay for ceramic purposes has been found in the 

It would have been perfectly natural for the pre- 
historic potters to have desired to placate the pre- 
siding divinity, not so much perhaps out of grati- 
tude for the clay as to avert his displeasure and fend 
off bad luck in baking pottery. It is well known that 
the best pottery of the Incas was extremely fine in 
texture. Students of ceramics are well aware of the 


uncertainty of the results of baking day. Bad luck 
seems to come most unaccountably, even when the 
greatest pains are taken. Might it not have been 
possible that the people who were most concerned 
with creating pottery decided to erect this temple to 
insure success and get as much good luck as possible? 
Near the ancient temple is a small modem church 
with two towers. The churchyard appears to be a 
favorite place for baking pottery. Possibly the mod- 
ern potters use the church to pray for success in 
their baking, just as the ancient potters used the 
great temple of Viracocha. The walls of the church 
are composed partly of adobe and partly of cut 
stones taken from the ruins. 

Not far away is a fairly recent though prehistoric 
lava flow. It occurs to me that possibly this flow 
destroyed some of the clay beds from which the 
ancient potters got their precious material. The 
temple may have been erected as a propitiatory 
offering to the god of volcanoes in the hope that the 
anger which had caused him to send the lava flow 
might be appeased. It may be that the Inca Vira- 
cocha, an unusually gifted ruler, was particularly 
interested in ceramics and was responsible for build- 
ing the temple. If so, it would be natural for people 
who are devoted to ancestor worship to have here 
worshiped his memory. 






THE valley of the Huatanay is one of many val- 
leys tributary to the Urubamba. It differs from 
them in having more arable land located under cli- 
matic conditions favorable for the raising of the food 
crops of the ancient Peruvians. Containing an area 
estimated at less than i6o square miles, it was the 
heart of the greatest empire that South America has 
ever seen. It is still intensively cultivated, the home 
of a large percentage of the people of this part of Peru. 
The Huatanay itself sometimes meanders through 
the valley in a natural manner, but at other times is 
seen to be confined within carefully built stone walls 
constructed by prehistoric agriculturists anxious 
to save their fields from floods and erosion. The 
climate is temperate. Extreme cold is unknown. 
Water freezes in the lowlands during the dry winter 
season, in June and July, and frost may occur any 
night in the year above 13,000 feet, but in general 
the climate may be said to be neither warm nor 

This rich valley was apportioned by the Spanish 
conquerors to soldiers who were granted large 
estates as well as the labor of the Indians living on 
them. This method still prevails and one may 
occasionally meet on the road wealthy landholders 
on their way to and from town. Although mules 


are essentially the most reliable saddle animals for 
work in the Andes, these landholders usually prefer 
horses, which are larger and faster, as well as being 
more gentle and better gaited. The gentry of the 
Huatanay Valley prefer a deep-seated saddle, over 
which is laid a heavy sheepskin or thick fur mat. 
The fashionable stirrups are pyramidal in shape, 
made of wood decorated with silver bands. Owing 
to the steepness of the roads, a crupper is considered 
necessary and is usually decorated with a broad, 
embossed panel, from which hang little trappings 
reminiscent of medieval harness. The bridle is 
usually made of carefully braided leather, decorated 
with silver and frequently furnished with an em- 
bossed leather eye shade or blinder, to indicate that 
the horse is high-spirited. This eye shade, which 
may be pulled down so as to blind both eyes com- 
pletely, is more useful than a hitching post in per- 
suading the horse to stand still. 

The valley of the Huatanay River is divided into 
three parts, the basins of Lucre, Oropesa, and Cuzco. 
The basaltic cliffs near Oropesa divide the Lucre 
Basin from the Oropesa Basin. The pass at Ango- 
stura, or "the narrows," is the natural gateway be- 
tween the Oropesa Basin and the Cuzco Basin. 
Each basin contains interesting ruins. In the Lucre 
Basin the most interesting are those of Rumiccolca 
and Piquillacta. 

At the extreme eastern end of the valley, on top 
of the pass which leads to the Vilcanota is an an- 
cient gateway called Rumiccolca {Rumi = "stone"; 
ccolca = "granary"). It is commonly supposed 


that this was an Inca fortress, intended to separate 
the chiefs of Cuzco from those of Vilcanota. It is 
now locally referred to as a "fortaleza." The major 
part of the wall is well built of rough stones, laid in 
clay, while the sides of the gateway are faced with 
carefully cut andesite ashlars of an entirely differ- 
ent style. It is conceivable that some great chief- 
tain built the rough wall in the days when the high- 
lands were split up among many little independent 
rulers, and that later one of the Incas, no longer 
needing any fortifications between the Huatanay 
Valley and the Vilcanota Valley, tore down part of 
the wall and built a fine gateway. The faces of the 
ashlars are nicely finished except for several rough 
bosses or nubbins. They were probably used by the 
ancient masons in order to secure a better hold when 
finally adjusting the ashlars with small crowbars. 
It may have been the intention of the stone masons 
to remove these nubbins after the wall was com- 
pleted. In one of the unfinished structures at Machu 
Picchu I noticed similar bosses. The name "Stone- 
granary" was probably originally applied to a 
neighboring edifice now in ruins. 

On the rocky hillside above Rumiccolca are the 
ruins of many ancient terraces and some buildings. 
Not far from Rumiccolca, on the slopes of Mt. 
Piquillacta, are the ruins of an extensive city, also 
called Piquillacta. A large number of its houses have 
extraordinarily high walls. A high wall outside the 
city, and running north and south, was obviously 
built to protect it from enemies approaching from 
the Vilcanota Valley. In the other directions the 


slopes are so steep as to render a wall unnecessary. 
The walls are built of fragments of lava rock, with 
which the slopes of Mt. Piquillacta are covered. 
Cacti and thorny scrub are growing in the ruins, 
but the volcanic soil is rich enough to attract the 
attention of agriculturists, who come here from 
neighboring villages to cultivate their crops. The 
slopes above the city are still extensively cultivated, 
but without terraces. Wheat and barley are the 
principal crops. 

As an illustration of the difficulty of identifying 
places in ancient Peru, it is worth noting that the 
gateway now called Rumiccolca is figured in Squier's 
"Peru" as "Piquillacta." On the other hand, the 
ruins of the large city, "covering thickly an area 
nearly a square mile," are called by Squier "the 
great Inca town of Muyna," a name also applied to 
the little lake which lies in the bottom of the Lucre 
Basin. As Squier came along the road from Racche 
he saw Mt. Piquillacta first, then the gateway, then 
Lake Muyna, then the ruins of the city. In each 
case the name of the most conspicuous, harmless, 
natural phenomenon seems to have been applied to 
ruins by those of whom he inquired. My own ex» 
perience was different. 

Dr. Aguilar, a distinguished professor in the Uni- 
versity of Cuzco, who has a country place in the 
neighborhood and is very familiar with this region, 
brought me to this ancient city from the other direc- 
tion. From him I learned that the city ruins are 
called Piquillacta, the name which is also applied 
to the mountain which lies to the eastward of the 


ruins and rises 1200 feet above them. Dr. Aguilar 
lives near Oropesa. As one comes from Oropesa, Mt. 
Piquillacta is a conspicuous point and is directly in 
line with the city ruins. Consequently, it would be 
natural for people viewing it from this direction to 
give to the ruins the name of the mountain rather 
than that of the lake. Yet the mountain may be 
named for the ruins. Piqui means "flea"; llacta 
means "town, city, country, district, or territory." 
Was this "The Territory of the Fleas" or was it 
"Flea Town"? And what was its name in the days 
of the Incas? Was the old name abandoned because 
it was considered unlucky? 

Whatever the reason, it is a most extraordi- 
nary fact that we have here the evidences of a very 
large town, possibly pre-Inca, long since abandoned. 
There are scores of houses and numerous compounds 
laid out in regular fashion, the streets crossing each 
other at right angles, the whole covering an area 
considerably larger than the important town of 
Ollantaytambo. Not a soul lives here. It is true 
that across the Vilcanota to the east is a difficult, 
mountainous country culminating in Mt. Ausan- 
gate, the highest peak in the department. Yet 
Piquillacta is in the midst of a populous region. 
To the north lies the thickly settled valley of Pisac 
and Yucay; to the south, the important Vilcanota 
Valley with dozens of villages; to the west the 
densely populated valley of the Huatanay and 
Cuzco itself, the largest city in the highlands of 
Peru. Thousands of people live within a radius of 
twenty miles of Piquillacta, and the population is 


on the increase. It is perfectly easy of access and is 
less than a mile east of the railroad. Yet it is 
" abandonado — desierto — despoblado " I Undoubt- 
edly here was once a large city of great importance. 
The reason for its being abandoned appears to be 
the absence of running water. Although Mt. Piqui- 
llacta is a large mass, nearly five miles long and two 
miles wide, rising to a point of 2000 feet above the 
Huatanay and Vilcanota rivers, it has no streams, 
brooks, or springs. It is an isolated, extinct volcano 
surrounded by igneous rocks, lavas, andesites, and 

How came it that so large a city as Piquillacta 
could have been built on the slopes of a mountain 
which has no running streams? Has the climate 
changed so much since those days? If so, how is it 
that the surrounding region is still the populous part 
of southern Peru? It is inconceivable that so large a 
city could have been built and occupied on a plateau 
four hundred feet above the nearest water unless 
there was some way of providing it other than the ar- 
duous one of bringing every drop up the hill on the 
backs of men and llamas. If there were no places 
near here better provided with water than this site, 
one could understand that perhaps its inhabitants 
were obliged to depend entirely upon water carriers. 
On the contrary, within a radius of six miles there 
are half a dozen unoccupied sites near running 
streams. Until further studies can be made of this 
puzzling problem I believe that the answer lies in 
the ruins of Rumiccolca, which are usually thought 
of as a fortress. 


Squier says that this "fortress" was "the south- 
ern limit of the dominions of the first Inca." "The 
fortress reaches from the mountain, on one side, to a 
high, rocky eminence on the other. It is popularly 
called 'El Aqueducto,' perhaps from some fancied 
resemblance to an aqueduct — but the name is evi- 
dently misapplied." Yet he admits that the cross- 
section of the wall, diminishing as it does "by gradu- 
ations or steps on both sides," "might appear to 
conflict with the hypothesis of its being a work of 
defense or fortification" if it occupied "a different 
position." He noticed that "the top of the wall is 
throughout of the same level ; becomes less in height 
as it approaches the hills on either hand and dimin- 
ishes proportionately in thickness" as an aque- 
duct should do. Yet, so possessed was he by the 
"fortress" idea that he rejected not only local 
tradition as expressed in the native name, but even 
turned his back on the evidence of his own eyes. It 
seems to me that there is little doubt that instead of 
the ruins of Rumiccolca representing a fortification, 
we have here the remains of an ancient azequia, or 
aqueduct, built by some powerful chieftain to sup- 
ply the people of Piquillacta with water. 

A study of the topography of the region shows 
that the river which rises southwest of the village 
of Lucre and furnishes water power for its modern 
textile mills could have been used to supply such 
an azequia. The water, collected at an elevation of 
10,700 feet, could easily have been brought six miles 
along the southern slopes of the Lucre Basin, around 
Mt. Rumiccolca and across the old road, on this 


aqueduct, at an elevation of about 10,600 feet. This 
would have permitted it to flow through some of the 
streets of Piquillacta and give the ancient city an 
adequate supply of water. The slopes of Rumi- 
ccolca are marked by many ancient terraces. Their 
upper limit corresponds roughly with the contour 
along which such an azequia would have had to pass. 
There is, in fact, a distinct line on the hillside which 
looks as though an azequia had once passed that 
way. In the valley back of Lucre are also faint indi- 
cations of old azequias. There has been, however, a 
considerable amount of erosion on the hills, and if, as 
seems likely, the water-works have been out of or- 
der for several centuries, it is not surprising that all 
traces of them have disappeared in places. I regret 
very much that circumstances over which I had no 
control prevented my making a thorough study of 
the possibilities of such a theory. It remains for 
some fortunate future investigator to determine 
who were the inhabitants of Piquillacta, how they 
secured their water supply, and why the city was 

Until then I suggest as a possible working hy- 
pothesis that we have at Piquillacta the remains of 
a pre-Inca city; that its chiefs and people cultivated 
the Lucre Basin and its tributaries; that as a com- 
munity they were a separate political entity from 
the people of Cuzco; that the ruler of the Cuzco 
people, perhaps an Inca, finally became sufficiently 
powerful to conquer the people of the Lucre Basin, 
and removed the tribes which had occupied Piqui- 
llacta to a distant part of his domain, a system of 




colonization well known in the history of the Incas; 
that, after the people who had built and lived In 
Piquillacta departed, no subsequent dwellers in this 
region cared to reoccupy the site, and its aque- 
duct fell into decay. It is easy to believe that at first 
such a site would have been considered unlucky. 
Its houses, unfamiliar and unfashionable in design, 
would have been considered not desirable. Their 
high walls might have been used for a reconstructed 
city had there been plenty of water available. In 
any case, the ruins of the Lucre Basin offer a most 
fascinating problem. 

In the Oropesa Basin the most important ruins 
are those of Tipon, a pleasant, well-watered valley 
several hundred feet above the village of Quispi- 
canchi. They include carefully constructed houses 
of characteristic Inca construction, containing many 
symmetrically arranged niches with stone lintels. 
The walls of most of the houses are of rough stones 
laid in clay. Tipon was probably the residence of 
the principal chief of the Oropesa Basin. It com- 
mands a pleasant view of the village and of the hills 
to the south, which to-day are covered with fields of 
wheat and barley. At Tipon there is a nicely con- 
structed fountain of cut stone. Some of the terraces 
are extremely well built, with roughly squared 
blocks fitting tightly together. Access from one 
terrace to another was obtained by steps made each 
of a single bonder projecting from the face of the 
terrace. Few better constructed terrace walls are 
to be seen anywhere. The terraces are still culti- 
vated by the people of Quispicanchi. No one lives 


at Tipon now, although little shepherd boys and 
goatherds frequent the neighborhood. It is more 
convenient for the agriculturists to live at the edge 
of their largest fields, which are in the valley 
bottom, than to climb five hundred feet into the 
narrow valley and occupy the old buildings. Mo- 
tives of security no longer require a residence here 
rather than in the open plain. 

While I was examining the ruins and digging up a 
few attractive potsherds bearing Inca designs, Dr. 
Giesecke, the President of the University of Cuzco, 
who had accompanied me, climbed the mountain 
above Tipon with Dr. Aguilar and reported the 
presence of a fortification near its summit. My stay 
at Oropesa was rendered most comfortable and 
happy by the generous hospitality of Dr. Aguilar, 
whose jinca is between Quispicanchi and Oropesa 
and commands a charming view of the valley. 

From the Oropesa Basin, one enters the Cuzco 
Basin through an opening in the sandstone cliffs 
of Angostura near the modern town of San Gero- 
nimo. On the slopes above the south bank of the 
Huatanay, just beyond Angostura, are the ruins of a 
score or more of gable-roofed houses of character- 
istic Inca construction. The ancient buildings have 
doors, windows, and niches in walls of small stones 
laid in clay, the lintels having been of wood, now 
decayed. When we asked the name of these ruins 
we were told that it was Saylla, although that is the 
name of a modern village three miles away, down the 
Huatanay, in the Oropesa Basin. Like Piquillacta, 
old Saylla has no water supply at present. It is not 


far from a stream called the Kkaira and could easily 
have been supplied with water by an azequia less 
than two miles in length brought along the 11,000 
feet contour. It looks very much like the case of a 
village originally placed on the hills for the sake of 
comparative security and isolation and later aban- 
doned through a desire to enjoy the advantages of 
living near the great highway in the bottom of the 
valley, after the Incas had established peace over 
the highlands. There may be another explanation. 

It appears from Mr. Cook's studies that the de- 
forestation of the Cuzco Basin by the hand of man, 
and modern methods of tillage on unterraced slopes, 
have caused an unusual amount of erosion to occur. 
Landslides are frequent in the rainy season. 

Opposite Saylla is Mt. Picol, whose twin peaks are 
the most conspicuous feature on the north side of 
the basin. Waste material from its slopes is causing 
the rapid growth of a great gravel fan north of the 
village of San Geronimo. Professor Gregory noticed 
that the streams traversing the fan are even now 
engaged in burying ancient fields by "transporting 
gravel from the head of the fan to its lower margin," 
and that the lower end of the Cuzco Basin, where the 
Huatanay, hemmed in between the Angostura Nar- 
rows, cannot carry away the sediment as fast as it is 
brought down by its tributaries, is being choked up. 
If old Saylla represents a fortress set here to defend 
Cuzco against old Oropesa, it might very naturally 
have been abandoned when the rule of the Incas 
finally spread far over the Andes. On the other 
hand, it seems more likely that the people who built 


Say 11a were farmers and that when the lower Cuzco 
Basin was filled up by aggradation, due to increased 
erosion, they abandoned this site for one nearer the 
arable lands. One may imagine the dismay with 
which the agricultural residents of these ancient 
houses saw their beautiful fields at the bottom of the 
hill, covered in a few days, or even hours, by enor- 
mous quantities of coarse gravel brought down from 
the steep slopes of Picol after some driving rain- 
storm. It may have been some such catastrophe 
that led them to take up their residence elsewhere. 
As a matter of fact we do not know when it was 
abandoned. Further investigation might point to 
its having been deserted when the Spanish village 
of San Geronimo was founded. However, I believe 
students of agriculture will agree with me that de- 
forestation, increased erosion, and aggrading gravel 
banks probably drove the folk out of Saylla. 

The southern rim of the Cuzco Basin is broken 
by no very striking peaks, although Huanacaurai 
(13,427 ft.), the highest point, is connected in Inca 
tradition with some of the principal festivals and 
religious celebrations. The north side of the Hua- 
tanay Valley is much more irregular, ranging from 
Ttica Ttica pass (12,000 ft.) to Mt. Pachatucsa 
(15,915 ft.), whose five little peaks are frequently 
snow-clad. There is no permanent snow either here 
or elsewhere in the Huatanay Valley. 

The people of the Cuzco Basin are very short of 
fuel. There is no native coal. What the railroad 
uses comes from Australia. Firewood is scarce. 
The ancient forests disappeared long ago. The only 


trees in sight are a few willows or poplars from 
Europe and one or two groves of eucalyptus, also 
from Australia. Cuzco has been thought of and 
written of as being above the tree line, but such is 
not the case. The absence of trees on the neighbor- 
ing hills is due entirely to the hand of man, the long 
occupation, the necessities of early agriculturists, 
who cleared the forests before the days of intensive 
terrace agriculture, and the firewood requirements 
of a large population. The people of Cuzco do not 
dream of having enough fuel to make their houses 
warm and comfortable. Only with difficulty can 
they get enough for cooking purposes. They depend 
largely on fagots and straw which are brought into 
town on the backs of men and animals. 

In the fields of stubble left from the wheat and 
barley harvest we saw many sheep feeding. They 
were thin and long-legged and many of the rams had 
four horns, apparently due to centuries of inbreed- 
ing and the failure to improve the original stock by 
the introduction of new and superior strains. 

When one looks at the great amount of arable 
slopes on most of the hills of the Cuzco Basin and 
the unusually extensive flat land near the Huatanay, 
one readily understands why the heart of Inca Land 
witnessed a concentration of population very un- 
usual in the Andes. Most of the important ruins 
are in the northwest quadrant of the basin either 
in the immediate vicinity of Cuzco itself or on the 
*' pampas'' north of the city. The reason is that 
the arable lands where most extensive potato culti- 
vation could be carried out are nearly all in this 


quadrant. In the midst of this potato country, at 
the foot of the pass that leads directly to Pisac and 
Paucartambo, is a picturesque ruin which bears the 
native name of Pucara. 

Pucard is the Quichua word for fortress and it 
needs but one glance at the little hilltop crowned 
with a rectangular fortification to realize that the 
term is justified. The walls are beautifully made of 
irregular blocks closely fitted together. Advantage 
was taken of small cliffs on two sides of the hill to 
strengthen the fortifications. We noticed openings 
or drains which had been cut in the wall by the 
original builders in order to prevent the accumula- 
tion of moisture on the terraced floor of the enclosed 
area, which is several feet above that of the sloping 
field outside. Similar conduits may be seen in many 
of the old walls in the city of Cuzco. Apparently, the 
ancient folk fully appreciated the importance of 
good drainage and took pains to secure it. At 
present Pucard is occupied by llama herdsmen and 
drovers, who find the enclosure a very convenient 
corral. Probably Pucara was built by the chief of a 
tribe of prehistoric herdsmen who raised root crops 
and kept their flocks of llamas and alpacas on the 
neighboring grassy slopes. 

A short distance up the stream of the Lkalla 
Chaca, above Pucara, is a warm mineral spring. 
Around it is a fountain of cut stone. Near by are the 
ruins of a beautiful terrace, on top of which is a fine 
wall containing four large, ceremonial niches, level 
with the ground and about six feet high. The place 
is now called Tampu Machai. Polo de Ondegardo, 


who lived in Cuzco in 1560, while many of the royal 
family of the Incas were still alive, gives a list of the 
sacred or holy places which were venerated by all 
the Indians in those days. Among these he mentions 
that of Timpucpuquio, the "hot springs" near 
Tambo Machai, "called so from the manner in 
which the water boils up." The next huaca, or holy 
place, he mentions is Tambo Machai itself, "a 
house of the Inca Yupanqui, where he was enter- 
tained when he went to be married. It was placed on 
a hill near the road over the Andes. They sacrifice 
everything here except children." 

The stonework of the ruins here is so excellent 
in character, the ashlars being very carefully fitted 
together, one may fairly assume a religious origin 
for the place. The Quichua word macchini means 
"to wash" or "to rinse a large narrow-mouthed 
pitcher." It may be that at Tampu Machai cere- 
monial purification of utensils devoted to royal or 
priestly uses was carried on. It is possible that this 
is the place where, according to Molina, all the 
youths of Cuzco who had been armed as knights in 
the great November festival came on the 21st day 
of the month to bathe and change their clothes. 
Afterwards they returned to the city to be lectured 
by their relatives. "Each relation that offered a 
sacrifice flogged a youth and delivered a discourse to 
him, exhorting him to be valiant and never to be a 
traitor to the Sun and the Inca, but to imitate the 
bravery and prowess of his ancestors." 

Tampu Machai is located on a little bluff above 
the Lkalla Chaca, a small stream which finally joins 


the Huatanay near the town of San Sebastian. 
Before it reaches the Huatanay, the Lkalla Chaca 
joins the Cachimayo, famous as being so highly 
impregnated with salt as to have caused the rise of 
extensive salt works. In fact, the Pizarros named 
the place Las Salinas, or "the Salt Pits," on account 
of the salt pans with which, by a careful system of 
terracing, the natives had filled the Cachimayo 
Valley. Prescott describes the great battle which 
took place here on April 26, 1539, between the 
forces of Pizarro and Almagro, the two leaders who 
had united for the original conquest of Peru, but 
quarreled over the division of the territory. Near 
the salt pans are many Inca walls and the ruins of 
structures, with niches, called Rumihuasi, or "Stone 
House." The presence of salt in many of the springs 
of the Huatanay Valley was a great source of annoy- 
ance to our topographic engineers, who were fre- 
quently obliged to camp in districts where the only 
water available was so saline as to spoil it for drink- 
ing purposes and ruin the tea. 

The Cuzco Basin was undoubtedly once the site 
of a lake, "an ancient water-body whose surface," 
says Professor Gregory, "lay well above the present 
site of San Sebastian and San Geronimo." This 
lake is believed to have reached its maximum ex- 
pansion in early Pleistocene times. Its rich silts, 
so well adapted for raising maize, habas beans, and 
quinoa, have always attracted farmers and are still 
intensively cultivated. It has been named "Lake 
Morkill" in honor of that loyal friend of scientific 


research in Peru, William L. Morkill, Esq., without 
whose untiring aid we could never have brought our 
Peruvian explorations as far along as we did. In 
pre-glacial times Lake Morkill fluctuated in volume. 
From time to time parts of the shore were exposed 
long enough to enable plants to send their roots into 
the fine materials and the sun to bake and crack 
the muds. Mastodons grazed on its banks. "Lake 
Morkill probably existed during all or nearly all of 
the glacial epoch." Its drainage was finally accom- 
plished by the Huatanay cutting down the sand- 
stone hills, near Saylla, and developing the Ango- 
stura gorge. 

In the banks of the Huatanay, a short distance 
below the city of Cuzco, the stratified beds of the 
vanished Lake Morkill to-day contain many fossil 
shells. Above these are gravels brought down by 
the floods and landslides of more modern times, in 
which may be found potsherds and bones. One of 
the chief afiluents of the Huatanay is the Chunchu- 
llumayo, which cuts off the southernmost third of 
Cuzco from the center of the city. Its banks are 
terraced and are still used for gardens and food 
crops. Here the hospitable Canadian missionaries 
have their pleasant station, a veritable oasis of 
Anglo-Saxon cleanliness. 

On a July morning in 191 1, while strolling up the 
Ayahuaycco quebrada, an affluent of the Chun- 
chullumayo, in company with Professor Foote and 
Surgeon Erving, my interest was aroused by the 
sight of several bones and potsherds exposed by 
recent erosion in the stratified gravel banks of the 


little gulch. Further examination showed that re- 
cent erosion had also cut through an ancient ash 
heap. On the side toward Cuzco I discovered a sec- 
tion of stone wall, built of roughly finished stones 
more or less carefully fitted together, which at first 
sight appeared to have been built to prevent further 
washing away of that side of the gulch. Yet above 
the wall and flush with its surface the bank appeared 
to consist of stratified gravel, indicating that the wall 
antedated the gravel deposits. Fifty feet farther up 
the quebrada another portion of wall appeared under 
the gravel bank. On top of the bank was a culti- 
vated field ! Half an hour's digging in the compact 
gravel showed that there was more wall underneath 
the field. Later investigation by Dr. Bowman 
showed that the wall was about three feet thick and 
nine feet in height, carefully faced on both sides 
with roughly cut stone and filled in with rubble, a 
type of stonework not uncommon in the founda- 
tions of some of the older buildings in the western 
part of the city of Cuzco. 

Even at first sight it was obvious that this wall, 
built by man, was completely covered to a depth 
of six or eight feet by a compact water-laid gravel 
bank. This was sufficiently difficult to understand, 
yet a few days later, while endeavoring to solve the 
puzzle, I found something even more exciting. Half 
a mile farther up the gulch, the road, newly cut, ran 
close to the compact, perpendicular gravel bank. 
About five feet above the road I saw what looked 
like one of the small rocks which are freely inter- 
spersed throughout the gravels here. Closer exami- 


nation showed it to be the end of a human femur. 
Apparently it formed an integral part of the gravel 
bank, which rose almost perpendicularly for seventy 
or eighty feet above it. Impressed by the possibili- 
ties in case it should turn out to be true that here, 
in the heart of Inca Land, a human bone had been 
buried under seventy-five feet of gravel, I refrained 
from disturbing it until I could get Dr. Bowman and 
Professor Foote, the geologist and the naturalist of 
the 191 1 Expedition, to come with me to the Aya- 
huaycco quebrada. We excavated the femur and 
found behind it fragments of a number of other 
bones. They were excessively fragile. The femur 
was unable to support more than four inches of its 
own weight and broke off after the gravel had been 
partly removed. Although the gravel itself was 
somewhat damp the bones were dry and powdery, 
ashy gray in color. The bones were carried to the 
Hotel Central, where they were carefully photo- 
graphed, soaked in melted vaseline, packed in 
cotton batting, and eventually brought to New 
Haven. Here they were examined by Dr. George F. 
Eaton, Curator of Osteology in the Peabody Mu- 
seum. In the meantime Dr. Bowman had become 
convinced that the compact gravels of Ayahuaycco 
were of glacial origin. 

When Dr. Eaton first examined the bone frag- 
ments he was surprised to find among them the bone 
of a horse. Unfortunately a careful examination of 
the photographs taken in Cuzco of all the fragments 
which were excavated by us on July nth failed to 
reveal this particular bone. Dr. Bowman, upon 


being questioned, said that he had dug out one or 
two more bones in the diff adjoining our excavation 
of July nth and had added these to the original lot. 
Presumably this horse bone was one which he had 
added when the bones were packed. It did not 
worry him, however, and so sure was he of his in- 
terpretation of the gravel beds that he declared he 
did not care if we had found the bone of a Perch- 
eron stallion, he was sure that the age of the verte- 
brate remains might be "provisionally estimated at 
20,000 to 40,000 years," until further studies could 
be made of the geology of the surrounding territory. 
In an article on the buried wall. Dr. Bowman came 
to the conclusion that "the wall is pre-Inca, that its 
relations to alluvial deposits which cover it Indicate 
its erection before the alluvial slope in which it lies 
buried was formed, and that it represents the earli- 
est type of architecture at present known in the 
Cuzco basin." 

Dr. Eaton's study of the bones brought out the 
fact that eight of them were fragments of human 
bones representing at least three individuals, four 
were fragments of llama bones, one of the bone of a 
dog, and three were "bovine remains." The human 
remains agreed "in all essential respects" with the 
bones of modern Quichuas. Llama and dog might 
all have belonged to Inca, or even more recent times, 
but the bovine remains presented considerable diffi- 
culty. The three fragments were from bones which 
"are among the least characteristic parts of the 
skeleton." That which was of greatest interest was 
the fragment of a first rib, resembling the first rib of 


the extinct bison. Since this fragmentary bovine 
rib was of a form apparently characteristic of bisons 
and not seen in the domestic cattle of the United 
States, Dr. Eaton felt that it could not be denied 
"that the material examined suggests the possi- 
bility that some species of bison is here represented, 
yet it would hardly be in accordance with conserva- 
tive methods to differentiate bison from domestic 
cattle solely by characters obtained from a study of 
the first ribs of a small number of individuals." Al- 
though staunchly supporting his theory of the age 
of the vertebrate remains, Dr. Bowman in his re- 
port on their geological relations admitted that the 
weakness of his case lay in the fact that the bovine 
remains were not sharply differentiated from the 
bones of modern cattle, and also in the possibility 
that "the bluff in which the bones were found may 
be faced by younger gravel and that the bones were 
found in a gravel veneer deposited during later 
periods of partial valley filling, . . . although it still 
seems very unlikely." 

Reports of glacial man in America have come from 
places as widely separated as California and Argen- 
tina. Careful investigation, however, has always 
thrown doubt on any great age being certainly 
attributable to any human remains. In view of the 
fragmentary character of the skeletal evidence, the 
fact that no proof of great antiquity could be drawn 
from the characters of the human skeletal parts, and 
the suggestion made by Dr. Bowman of the possi- 
bility that the gravels which contained the bones 
might be of a later origin than he thought, we deter- 


mined to make further and more complete investi- 
gations in 1912. It was most desirable to clear up 
all doubts and dissolve all skepticism. I felt, per- 
haps mistakenly, that while a further study of the 
geology of the Cuzco Basin undoubtedly might lead 
Dr. Bowman to reverse his opinion, as was expected 
by some geologists, if it should lead him to confirm 
his original conclusions the same skeptics would be 
likely to continue their skepticism and say he was 
trying to bolster up his own previous opinions. 
Accordingly, I believed it preferable to take another 
geologist, whose independent testimony would give 
great weight to those conclusions should he find 
them confirmed by an exhaustive geological study 
of the Huatanay Valley. I asked Dr. Bowman's 
colleague, Professor Gregory, to make the necessary 
studies. At his request a very careful map of the 
Huatanay Valley was prepared under the direction 
of Chief Topographer Albert H. Bumstead. Dr. 
Eaton, who had had no opportunity of seeing Peru, 
was invited to accompany us and make a study of 
the bones of modern Peruvian cattle as well as of any 
other skeletal remains which might be found. 

Furthermore, it seemed important to me to dig 
a tunnel into the Ayahuaycco hillside at the exact 
point from which we took the bones in 191 1. So I 
asked Mr. K. C. Heald, whose engineering training 
had been in Colorado, to superintend it. Mr. Heald 
dug a tunnel eleven feet long, with a cross-section 
four and a half by three feet, into the solid mass of 
gravel. He expected to have to use timbering, but so 
firmly packed was the gravel that this was not neces- 


sary. No bones or artifacts were found — nothing 
but coarse gravel, uniform in texture and containing 
no unmistakable evidences of stratification. Appar- 
ently the bones had been in a land slip on the edge 
of an older, compact gravel mass. 

In his studies of the Cuzco Basin Professor Greg- 
ory came to the conclusion that the Ayahuaycco 
gravel banks might have been repeatedly buried 
and reexcavated many times during the past few 
centuries. He found evidence indicating periodic 
destruction and rebuilding of some gravel terraces, 
"even within the past one hundred years." Accord- 
ingly there was no longer any necessity to ascribe 
great antiquity to the bones or the wall which we 
found in the Ayahuaycco quebrada. Although the 
"Cuzco gravels are believed to have reached their 
greatest extent and thickness in late Pleistocene 
times," more recent deposits have, however, been 
superimposed on top and alongside of them. "Sur- 
face wash from the bordering slopes, controlled in 
amount and character by climatic changes, has 
probably been accumulating continuously since 
glacial times, and has greatly increased since human 
occupation began." "Geologic data do not require 
more than a few hundreds of years as the age of the 
human remains found in the Cuzco gravels." 

But how about the "bison"? Soon after his 
arrival in Cuzco, Dr. Eaton examined the first ribs 
of carcasses of beef animals offered for sale in the 
public markets. He immediately became convinced 
that the "bison" was a Peruvian domestic ox. 
"Under the life-conditions prevailing in this part of 


the Andes, and possibly in correlation with the 
increased action of the respiratory muscles in a rare- 
fied air, domestic cattle occasionally develop first 
ribs, closely approaching the form observed in 
bison." Such was the sad end of the "bison" 
and the "Cuzco man," who at one time I thought 
might be forty thousand years old, and now believe 
to have been two hundred years old, perhaps. The 
word Ayahuaycco in Quichua means "the valley of 
dead bodies" or "dead man's gulch." There is a 
story that it was used as a burial place for plague 
victims in Cuzco, not more than three generations 



/^UZCO, the oldest city in South America, has 
^^ changed completely since Squier's visit. In 
fact it has altered considerably since my own first 
impressions of it were published in "Across South 
America." To be sure, there are still the evidences 
of antiquity to be seen on every side; on the other 
hand there are corresponding evidences of advance- 
ment. Telephones, electric lights, street cars, and 
the "movies" have come to stay. The streets are 
cleaner. If the modern traveler finds fault with 
some of the conditions he encounters he must 
remember that many of the achievements of the 
people of ancient Cuzco are not yet duplicated in 
his own country nor have they ever been equaled 
in any other part of the world. And modern Cuzco 
is steadily progressing. The great square in front 
of the cathedral was completely metamorphosed by 
Prefect Nunez in 191 1; concrete walks and beds of 
bright flowers have replaced the market and the old 
cobblestone paving and made the plaza a favorite 
promenade of the citizens on pleasant evenings. 

The principal market-place now is the Plaza of 
San Francisco. It is crowded with booths of every 
description. Nearly all of the food-stuffs and uten- 
sils used by the Indians may be bought here. 
Frequently thronged with Indians, buying and 


selling, arguing and jabbering, it affords, particu- 
larly in the early morning, a never-ending source of 
entertainment to one who is fond of the picturesque 
and interested in strange manners and customs. 

The retail merchants of Cuzco follow the very old 
custom of congregating by classes. In one street are 
the dealers in hats; in another those who sell coca. 
The dressmakers and tailors are nearly all in one 
long arcade in a score or more of dark little shops. 
Their light seems to come entirely from the front 
door. The occupants are operators of American 
sewing-machines who not only make clothing to 
order, but always have on hand a large assortment 
of standard sizes and patterns. In another arcade 
are the shops of those who specialize in everything 
which appeals to the eye and the pocketbook of the 
arriero: richly decorated halters, which are intended 
to avert the Evil Eye from his best mules; leather 
knapsacks in which to carry his coca or other valu- 
able articles ; cloth cinches and leather bridles ; raw- 
hide lassos, with which he is more likely to make a 
diamond hitch than to rope a mule; flutes to while 
away the weary hours of his journey, and candles to 
be burned before his patron saint as he starts for 
some distant village; in a word, all the paraphernalia 
of his profession. 

In order to learn more about the picturesque 
Quichuas who throng the streets of Cuzco it was 
felt to be important to secure anthropometric 
measurements of a hundred Indians. Accordingly, 
Surgeon Nelson set up a laboratory in the Hotel 
Central. His subjects were the unwilling victims 

■ ' w:s r> 

f^ r^ -r. 

'^^^ -^^H^k-r^^i/i ,y ^ ^^'^ 

•9 M-3; a iDDO 


of friendly gendarmes who went out into the streets 
with orders to bring for examination only pure- 
blooded Quichuas. Most of the Indians showed no 
resentment and were in the end pleased and sur- 
prised to find themselves the recipients of a small 
silver coin as compensation for loss of time. 

One might have supposed that a large proportion 
of Dr. Nelson's subjects would have claimed Cuzco 
as their native place, but this was not the case. Ac- 
tually fewer Indians came from the city itself than 
from relatively small towns like Anta, Huaracondo, 
and Maras. This may have been due to a number of 
causes. In the first place, the gendarmes may have 
preferred to arrest strangers from distant villages, 
who would submit more willingly. Secondly, the 
city folk were presumably more likely to be in their 
shops attending to their business or watching their 
wares in the plaza, an occupation which the gen- 
darmes could not interrupt. On the other hand it is 
also probably true that the residents of Cuzco are 
of more mixed descent than those of remote villages, 
where even to-day one cannot find more than two or 
three individuals who speak Spanish. Furthermore, 
the attention of the gendarmes might have been 
drawn more easily to the quaintly caparisoned 
Indians temporarily in from the country, where city 
fashions do not prevail, than to those who through 
long residence in the city had learned to adopt a 
costume more in accordance with European notions. 
In 1870, according to Squier, seven eighths of the 
population of Cuzco were still pure Indian. Even 
to-day a large proportion of the individuals whom 


one sees In the streets appears to be of pure aborigi- 
nal ancestry. Of these we found that many are visi- 
tors from outlying villages. Cuzco is the Mecca of 
the most densely populated part of the Andes. 

Probably a large part of its citizens are of mixed 
Spanish and Quichua ancestry. The Spanish con- 
quistadores did not bring European women with 
them. Nearly all took native wives. The Spanish 
race is composed of such an extraordinary mixture 
of peoples from Europe and northern Africa, Celts, 
Iberians, Romans, and Goths, as well as Carthagin- 
ians, Berbers, and Moors, that the Hispanic peoples 
have far less antipathy toward intermarriage with 
the American race than have the Anglo-Saxons and 
Teutons of northern Europe. Consequently, there 
has gone on for centuries intermarriage of Spaniards 
and Indians with results which are difficult to de- 
termine. Some writers have said there were once 
200,000 people in Cuzco. With primitive methods 
of transportation it would be very difficult to feed so 
many. Furthermore, in 1559, there were, according 
to Montesinos, only 20,000 Indians in Cuzco. 

One of the charms of Cuzco is the juxtaposition of 
old and new. Street cars clanging over steel rails 
carry crowds of well-dressed Cuzcenos past Inca 
walls to greet their friends at the railroad station. 
The driver is scarcely able by the most vigorous 
application of his brakes to prevent his mules from 
crashing into a compact herd of quiet, supercilious 
llamas sedately engaged in bringing small sacks of 
potatoes to the Cuzco market. The modern convent 
of La Merced is built of stones taken from ancient 


Inca structures. Fastened to ashlars which left the 
Inca stonemason's hands six or seven centuries ago, 
one sees a bill-board advertising Cuzco's largest 
moving-picture theater. On the 2d of July, 191 5, 
the performance was for the benefit of the Belgian 
Red Cross! Gazing in awe at this sign were Indian 
boys from some remote Andean village where the 
custom is to wear ponchos with broad fringes, 
brightly colored, and knitted caps richly decorated 
with tasseled tops and elaborate ear-tabs, a costume 
whose design shows no trace of European influence. 
Side by side with these picturesque visitors was a 
barefooted Cuzco urchin clad in a striped jersey, 
cloth cap, coat, and pants of English pattern. 

One sees electric light wires fastened to the walls 
of houses built four hundred years ago by the Span- 
ish conquerors, walls which themselves rest on mas- 
sive stone foundations laid by Inca masons cen- 
turies before the conquest. In one place telephone 
wires intercept one's view of the beautiful stone 
fagade of an old Jesuit Church, now part of the 
University of Cuzco. It is built of reddish basalt 
from the quarries of Huaccoto, near the twin peaks 
of Mt. Picol. Professor Gregory says that this 
Huaccoto basalt has a softness and uniformity of 
texture which renders it peculiarly suitable for that 
elaborately carved stonework which was so greatly 
desired by ecclesiastical architects of the sixteenth 
century. As compared with the dense diorite which 
was extensively used by the Incas, the basalt 
weathers far more rapidly. The rich red color of the 
weathered portions gives to the Jesuit Church an 


atmosphere of extreme age. The courtyard of the 
University, whose arcades echoed to the feet of 
learned Jesuit teachers long before Yale was founded, 
has recently been paved with concrete, transformed 
into a tennis court, and now echoes to the shouts 
of students to whom Dr. Giesecke, the successful 
president, is teaching the truth of the ancient axiom, 
''Mens Sana in cor pore sano." 

Modern Cuzco is a city of about 20,000 people. 
Although it is the political capital of the most im- 
portant department in southern Peru, it had in 191 1 
only one hospital — a semi-public, non-sectarian 
organization on the west of the city, next door to the 
largest cemetery. In fact, so far away is it from 
everything else and so close to the cemetery that the 
funeral wreaths and the more prominent monuments 
are almost the only interesting things which the 
patients have to look at. The building has large 
courtyards and open colonnades, which would afford 
ideal conditions for patients able to take advantage 
of open-air treatment. At the time of Surgeon 
Erving's visit he found the patients were all kept in 
wards whose windows were small and practically 
always closed and shuttered, so that the atmosphere 
was close and the light insufficient. One could 
hardly imagine a stronger contrast than exists 
between such wards and those to which we are 
accustomed in the United States, where the maxi- 
mum of sunlight and fresh air is sought and patients 
are encouraged to sit out-of-doors, and even have 
their cots on porches. There was no resident physi- 
cian. The utmost care was taken throughout the 



hospital to have everything as dark as possible, thus 
conforming to the ancient mountain traditions re- 
garding the evil effects of sunlight and fresh air. 
Needless to say, the hospital has a high mortality 
and a very poor local reputation; yet it is the only 
hospital in the Department, Outside of Cuzco, in all 
the towns we visited, there was no provision for 
caring for the sick except in their own homes. In 
the larger places there are shops where some of the 
more common drugs may be obtained, but in the 
great majority of towns and villages no modern 
medicines can be purchased. No wonder President 
Giesecke, of the University, is urging his students 
to play football and tennis. 

On the slopes of the hill which overshadows the 
University are the interesting terraces of Colcam- 
pata. Here, in 1571, lived Carlos Inca, a cousin of 
Inca Titu Cusi, one of the native rulers who suc- 
ceeded in maintaining a precarious existence in the 
wilds of the Cordillera Uilcapampa after the Span- 
ish Conquest. In the gardens of Colcampata is still 
preserved one of the most exquisite bits of Inca 
stonework to be seen in Peru. One wonders whether 
it is all that is left of a fine palace, or whether it 
represents the last efforts of a dying dynasty to erect 
a suitable residence for Titu Cusi's cousin. It is 
carefully preserved by Don Cesare Lomellini, the 
leading business man of Cuzco, a merchant prince 
of Italian origin, who is at once a banker, an ex- 
porter of hides and other country produce, and an 
importer of merchandise of every description, in- 
cluding pencils and sugar mills, lumber and hats, 


candy and hardware. He is also an amateur of 
Spanish colonial furniture as well as of the beautiful 
pottery of the Incas. Furthermore, he has always 
found time to turn aside from the pressing cares of 
his large business to assist our expeditions. He has 
frequently brought us in touch with the owners of 
country estates, or given us letters of introduction, 
so that our paths were made easy. He has provided 
us with storerooms for our equipment, assisted us in 
procuring trustworthy muleteers, seen to it that we 
were not swindled in local purchases of mules and 
pack saddles, given us invaluable advice in over- 
coming difficulties, and, in a word, placed himself 
wholly at our disposal, just as though we were his 
most desirable and best-paying clients. As a matter 
of fact, he never was willing to receive any compen- 
sation for the many favors he showed us. So im- 
portant a factor was he in the success of our expedi- 
tions that he deserves to be gratefully remembered 
by all friends of exploration. 

Above his country house at Colcampata is the 
hill of Sacsahuaman. It is possible to scramble up 
its face, but only by making more exertion than is 
desirable at this altitude, 11,900 feet. The easiest 
way to reach the famous "fortress" is by following 
the course of the little Tullumayu, " Feeble Stream," 
the easternmost of the three canalized streams which 
divide Cuzco into four parts. On its banks one first 
passes a tannery and then, a short distance up a 
steep gorge, the remains of an old mill. The stone 
flume and the adjoining ruins are commonly as- 
cribed by the people of Cuzco to-day to the Incas, 


but do not look to me like Inca stonework. Since 
the Incas did not understand the mechanical prin- 
ciple of the wheel, it is hardly likely that they would 
have known how to make any use of water power. 
Finally, careful examination of the flume discloses 
the presence of lead cement, a substance unknown 
in Inca masonry. 

A little farther up the stream one passes through a 
massive megalithic gateway and finds one's self in 
the presence of the astounding gray-blue Cyclopean 
walls of Sacsahuaman, described in "Across South 
America." Here the ancient builders constructed 
three great terraces, which extend one above an- 
other for a third of a mile across the hill between two 
deep gulches. The lowest terrace of the "fortress" 
is faced with colossal boulders, many of which 
weigh ten tons and some weigh more than twenty 
tons, yet all are fitted together with the utmost 
precision. I have visited Sacsahuaman repeatedly. 
Each time it invariably overwhelms and astounds. 
To a superstitious Indian who sees these walls for 
the first time, they must seem to have been built 
by gods. 

About a mile northeast of Sacsahuaman are sev- 
eral small artificial hills, partly covered with vege- 
tation, which seem to be composed entirely of gray- 
blue rock chips — chips from the great limestone 
blocks quarried here for the "fortress" and later 
conveyed with the utmost pains down to Sacsahua- 
man. They represent the labor of countless thou- 
sands of quarrymen. Even in modern times, with 
steam drills, explosives, steel tools, and light rail- 


ways, these hills would be noteworthy, but when 
one pauses to consider that none of these me- 
chanical devices were known to the ancient stone- 
masons and that these mountains of stone chips 
were made with stone tools and were all carried 
from the quarries by hand, it fairly staggers the 

The ruins of Sacsahuaman represent not only an 
incredible amount of human labor, but also a very 
remarkable governmental organization. That thou- 
sands of people could have been spared from agri- 
cultural pursuits for so long a time as was necessary 
to extract the blocks from the quarries, hew them to 
the required shapes, transport them several miles 
over rough country, and bond them together in 
such an intricate manner, means that the leaders 
had the brains and ability to organize and arrange 
the affairs of a very large population. Such a folk 
could hardly have spent much time in drilling or 
preparing for warfare. Their building operations 
required infinite pains, endless time, and devoted 
skill. Such qualities could hardly have been called 
forth, even by powerful monarchs, had not the re- 
sults been pleasing to the great majority of their 
people, people who were primarily agriculturists. 
They had learned to avert hunger and famine by 
relying on carefully built, stone-faced terraces, which 
would prevent their fields being carried off and 
spread over the plains of the Amazon. It seems to 
me possible that Sacsahuaman was built in accord- 
ance with their desires to please their gods. Is it not 
reasonable to suppose that a people to whom stone- 


faced terraces meant so much in the way of Hfe- 
glvlng food should have sometimes built massive 
terraces of Cyclopean character, like Sacsahuaman, 
as an offering to the deity who first taught them 
terrace construction? This seems to me a more likely 
object for the gigantic labor involved in the con- 
struction of Sacsahuaman than its possible useful- 
ness as a fortress. Equally strong defenses against 
an enemy attempting to attack the hilltop back of 
Cuzco might have been constructed of smaller stones 
in an infinitely shorter time, with far less labor and 

Such a display of the power to control the labor of 
thousands of individuals and force them to super- 
human efforts on an unproductive undertaking, 
which in its agricultural or strategic results was out 
of all proportion to the obvious cost, might have 
been caused by the supreme vanity of a great sol- 
dier. On the other hand, the ancient Peruvians 
were religious rather than warlike, more inclined to 
worship the sun than to fight great battles. Was 
Sacsahuaman due to the desire to please, at what- 
ever cost, the god that fructified the crops which 
grew on terraces? It is not surprising that the 
Spanish conquerors, warriors themselves and de- 
scendants of twenty generations of a fighting race, 
accustomed as they were to the salients of European 
fortresses, should have looked upon Sacsahuaman 
as a fortress. To them the military use of its bas- 
tions was perfectly obvious. The value of its sali- 
ents and reentrant angles was not likely to be over- 
looked, for it had been only recently acquired by 


their crusading ancestors. The height and strength 
of its powerful walls enabled it to be of the greatest 
service to the soldiers of that day. They saw that it 
was virtually impregnable for any artillery with 
which they were familiar. In fact, in the wars of 
the Incas and those which followed Pizarro's entry 
into Cuzco, Sacsahuaman was repeatedly used as a 

So it probably never occurred to the Spaniards 
that the Peruvians, who knew nothing of explosive 
powder or the use of artillery, did not construct 
Sacsahuaman in order to withstand such a siege as 
the fortresses of Europe were only too familiar with. 
So natural did it seem to the first Europeans who 
saw it to regard it as a fortress that it has seldom 
been thought of in any other way. The fact that the 
sacred city of Cuzco was more likely to be attacked 
by invaders coming up the valley, or even over the 
gentle slopes from the west, or through the pass from 
the north which for centuries has been used as part 
of the main highway of the central Andes, never 
seems to have troubled writers who regarded Sacsa- 
huaman essentially as a fortress. It may be that 
Sacsahuaman was once used as a place where the 
votaries of the sun gathered at the end of the rainy 
season to celebrate the vernal equinox, and at the 
summer solstice to pray for the sun's return from his 
"farthest north." In any case I believe that the 
enormous cost of its construction shows that it was 
probably intended for religious rather than military 
purposes. It is more likely to have been an ancient 
shrine than a mighty fortress. 


It now becomes necessary, in order to explain my 
explorations north of Cuzco, to ask the reader's at- 
tention to a brief account of the last four Incas who 
ruled over any part of Peru. 



READERS of Prescott's charming classic, "The 
Conquest of Peru," will remember that Pizarro, 
after killing Atahualpa, the Inca who had tried in 
vain to avoid his fate by filling a room with vessels 
of gold, decided to establish a native prince on the 
throne of the Incas to rule in accordance with the 
dictates of Spain. The young prince, Manco, a son 
of the great Inca Huayna Capac, named for the first 
Inca, Manco Ccapac, the founder of the dynasty, 
was selected as the most acceptable figurehead. He 
was a young man of ability and spirit. His induction 
into office in 1534 with appropriate ceremonies, the 
barbaric splendor of which only made the farce the 
more pitiful, did little to gratify his natural ambi- 
tion. As might have been foreseen, he chafed under 
restraint, escaped as soon as possible from his at- 
tentive guardians, and raised an army of faithful 
Quichuas. There followed the siege of Cuzco, briefly 
characterized by Don Alonzo Enriques de Guzman, 
who took part in it, as "the most fearful and cruel 
war in the world." When in 1536 Cuzco was re- 
lieved by Pizarro's comrade, Almagro, and Manco's 
last chance of regaining the ancient capital of his 
ancestors failed, the Inca retreated to Ollantay- 
tambo. Here, on the banks of the river Urubamba, 
Manco made a determined stand, but Ollantay- 



tambo was too easily reached by Pizarro's mounted 
cavaliers. The Inca's followers, although aroused to 
their utmost endeavors by the presence of the mag- 
nificent stone edifices, fortresses, granaries, palaces, 
and hanging gardens of their ancestors, found it 
necessary to retreat. They fled in a northerly direc- 
tion and made good their escape over snowy passes 
to Uiticos in the fastnesses of Uilcapampa, a veri- 
table American Switzerland. 

The Spaniards who attempted to follow Manco 
found his position practically impregnable. The 
citadel of Uilcapampa, a gigantic natural fortress 
defended by Nature in one of her profoundest 
moods, was only to be reached by fording dangerous 
torrents, or crossing the mountains by narrow defiles 
which themselves are higher than the most lofty 
peaks of Europe. It was hazardous for Hannibal and 
Napoleon to bring their armies through the com- 
paratively low passes of the Alps. Pizarro found it 
impossible to follow the Inca Manco over the Pass of 
Panticalla, itself a snowy wilderness higher than the 
summit of Mont Blanc. In no part of the Peruvian 
Andes are there so many beautiful snowy peaks. 
Near by is the sharp, icy pinnacle of Mt. Veronica 
(elevation 19,342 ft.). Not far away is another mag- 
nificent snow-capped peak, Mt. Salcantay, 20,565 
feet above the sea. Near Salcantay is the sharp 
needle of Mt. Soray (19,435 ft.), while to the west of 
it are Panta (18,590 ft.) and Soiroccocha (18,197 ft.). 
On the shoulders of these mountains are unnamed 
glaciers and little valleys that have scarcely ever 
been seen except by some hardy prospector or 


inquisitive explorer. These valleys are to be reached 
only through passes where the traveler is likely to 
be waylaid by violent storms of hail and snow. 
During the rainy season a large part of Uilcapampa 
is absolutely impenetrable. Even in the dry season 
the difficulties of transportation are very great. The 
most sure-footed mule is sometimes unable to use 
the trails without assistance from man. It was an 
ideal place for the Inca Manco. 

The conquistador, Cieza de Leon, who wrote in 
1550 a graphic account of the wars of Peru, says that 
Manco took with him a "great quantity of treasure, 
collected from various parts . . . and many loads of 
rich clothing of wool, delicate in texture and very 
beautiful and showy." The Spaniards were abso- 
lutely unable to conceive of the ruler of a country 
traveling without rich "treasure." It is extremely 
doubtful whether Manco burdened himself with 
much gold or silver. Except for ornament there was 
little use to which he could have put the precious 
metals and they would have served only to arouse 
the cupidity of his enemies. His people had never 
been paid in gold or silver. Their labor was his due, 
and only such part of it as was needed to raise their 
own crops and make their own clothing was allotted 
to them; in fact, their lives were in his hands and 
the custom and usage of centuries made them faith- 
ful followers of their great chief. That Manco, how- 
ever, actually did carry off with him beautiful tex- 
tiles, and anything else which was useful, may be 
taken for granted. In Uiticos, safe from the armed 
forces of his enemies, the Inca was also able to enjoy 


the benefits of a delightful climate, and was in a 
well-watered region where corn, potatoes, both 
white and sweet, and the fruits of the temperate and 
sub-tropical regions easily grow. Using this as a 
base, he was accustomed to sally forth against the 
Spaniards frequently and in unexpected directions. 
His raids were usually successful, i It was relatively 
easy for him, with a handful of followers, to dash 
out of the mountain fastnesses, cross the Apurimac 
River either by swimming or on primitive rafts, 
and reach the great road between Cuzco and Lima, 
the principal highway of Peru. Officials and mer- 
chants whose business led them over this route 
found it extremely precarious. Manco cheered his 
followers by making them realize that in these raids 
they were taking sweet revenge on the Spaniards 
for what they had done to Peru. It is interesting to 
note that Cieza de Leon justifies Manco in his at- 
titude, for the Spaniards had indeed "seized his 
inheritance, forcing him to leave his native land, 
and to live in banishment." 

Manco's success in securing such a place of refuge, 
and in using it as a base from which he could fre- 
quently annoy his enemies, led many of the Orejones 
of Cuzco to follow him. The Inca chiefs were called 
Orejones, "big ears," by the Spaniards because the 
lobes of their ears had been enlarged artificially to 
receive the great gold earrings which they were fond 
of wearing. Three years after Manco's retirement 
to the wilds of Uilcapampa there was born in Cuzco 
in the year 1539, Garcilasso Inca de la Vega, the son 
of an Inca princess and one of the conquistador es. 


As a small child Garcilasso heard of the activities 
of his royal relative. He left Peru as a boy and 
spent the rest of his life in Spain. After forty years 
in Europe he wrote, partly from memory, his 
"Royal Commentaries," an account of the country 
of his Indian ancestors. Of the Inca Manco, of 
whom he must frequently have heard uncompli- 
mentary reports as a child, he speaks apologetically. 
He says: "In the time of Manco Inca, several rob- 
beries were committed on the road by his subjects; 
but still they had that respect for the Spanish Mer- 
chants that they let them go free and never pillaged 
them of their wares and merchandise, which were in 
no manner useful to them; howsoever they robbed 
the Indians of their cattle [llamas and alpacas], 
bred in the countrey. . . . The Inca lived in the 
Mountains, which afforded no tame Cattel; and 
only produced Tigers and Lions and Serpents of 
twenty-five and thirty feet long, with other veno- 
mous insects." (I am quoting from Sir Paul 
Rycaut's translation, published in London in 1688.) 
Garcilasso says Manco's soldiers took only "such 
food as they found in the hands of the Indians; 
which the Inca did usually call his own," saying, 
"That he who was Master of that whole Empire 
might lawfully challenge such a proportion thereof 
as was convenient to supply his necessary and 
natural support" — a reasonable apology; and yet 
personally I doubt whether Manco spared the 
Spanish merchants and failed to pillage them of 
their "wares and merchandise." As will be seen 
later, we found in Manco's palace some metal 


articles of European origin which might very well 
have been taken by Manco's raiders. Furthermore, 
it should be remembered that Garcilasso, although 
often quoted by Prescott, left Peru when he was 
sixteen years old and that his ideas were largely 
colored by his long life in Spain and his natural 
desire to extol the virtues of his mother's people, a 
brown race despised by the white Europeans for 
whom he wrote. 

The methods of warfare and the weapons used 
by Man CO and his followers at this time are thus 
described by Guzman. He says the Indians had no 
defensive arms such as helmets, shields, and armor, 
but used "lances, arrows, clubs, axes, halberds, 
darts, and slings, and another weapon which they 
call ayllas (the bolas), consisting of three round 
stones sewn up in leather, and each fastened to a 
cord a cubit long. They throw these at the horses, 
and thus bind their legs together; and sometimes 
they will fasten a man's arms to his sides in the 
same way. These Indians are so expert in the use of 
this weapon that they will bring down a deer with 
it in the chase. Their principal weapon, however, is 
the sling. . . . With it, they will hurl a huge stone 
with such force that it will kill a horse; in truth, the 
effect is little less great than that of an arquebus; 
and I have seen a stone, thus hurled from a sling, 
break a sword in two pieces which was held in a 
man's hand at a distance of thirty paces." 

Manco's raids finally became so annoying that 
Pizarro sent a small force from Cuzco under Cap- 
tain Villadiego to attack the Inca. Captain Villa- 


diego found it Impossible to use horses, although 
he realized that cavalry was the "important arm 
against these Indians." Confident in his strength 
and in the efficacy of his firearms, and anxious to 
enjoy the spoils of a successful raid against a chief 
reported to be traveling surrounded by his family 
*' and with rich treasure,'" he pressed eagerly on, up 
through a lofty valley toward a defile in the moun- 
tains, probably the Pass of Panticalla. Here, fa- 
tigued and exhausted by their difficult march and 
suffering from the effects of the altitude (16,000 ft.), 
his men found themselves ambushed by the Inca, 
who with a small party, "little more than eighty 
Indians," "attacked the Christians, who numbered 
twenty-eight or thirty, and killed Captain Villa- 
diego and all his men except two or three." To any 
one who has clambered over the passes of the Cor- 
dillera Uilcapampa it is not surprising that this 
military expedition was a failure or that the Inca, 
warned by keen-sighted Indians posted on appro- 
priate vantage points, could have succeeded in 
defeating a small force of weary soldiers armed with 
the heavy blunderbuss of the seventeenth century. 
In a rocky pass, protected by huge boulders, and 
surrounded by quantities of natural ammunition for 
their slings, it must have been relatively simple for 
eighty Quichuas, who could "hurl a huge stone with 
such force that it would kill a horse," to have lit- 
erally stoned to death Captain Villadiego's little 
company before they could have prepared their 
clumsy weapons for firing. 

The fugitives returned to Cuzco and reported 

A reason for the safety of the Incas in Uilcapampa 


their misfortune. The importance of the reverse will 
be better appreciated if one remembers that the size 
of the force with which Pizarro conquered Peru was 
less than two hundred, only a few times larger than 
Captain Villadiego's company which had been wiped 
out by Manco. Its significance is further increased 
by the fact that the contemporary Spanish writers, 
with all their tendency to exaggerate, placed 
Manco's force at only "a little more than eighty 
Indians." Probably there were not even that many. 
The wonder is that the Inca's army was not re- 
ported as being several thousand. 

Francisco Pizarro himself now hastily set out 
with a body of soldiers determined to punish this 
young Inca who had inflicted such a blow on the 
prestige of Spanish arms, "but this attempt also 
failed, " for the Inca had withdrawn across the rivers 
and mountains of Uilcapampa to Uiticos, where, 
according to Cieza de Leon, he cheered his followers 
with the sight of the heads of his enemies. Unfortu- 
nately for accuracy, the custom of displaying on the 
ends of pikes the heads of one's enemies was Eu- 
ropean and not Peruvian. To be sure, the savage 
Indians of some of the Amazonian jungles do some- 
times decapitate their enemies, remove the bones of 
the skull, dry the shrunken scalp and face, and wear 
the trophy as a mark of prowess just as the North 
American Indians did the scalps of their enemies. 
Such customs had no place among the peace-loving 
Inca agriculturists of central Peru. There were no 
Spaniards living with Manco at that time to report 
any such,' outrage on the bodies of Captain Villa- 


diego's unfortunate men. Probably the conquista- 
dores supposed that Manco did what the Spaniards 
would have done under similar circumstances. 

Following the failure of Francisco Pizarro to pene- 
trate to Uiticos, his brother, Gonzalo, "undertook 
the pursuit of the Inca and occupied some of his 
passes and bridges," but was unsuccessful in pene- 
trating the mountain labyrinth. Being less fool- 
hardy than Captain Villadiego, he did not come 
into actual conflict with Manco. Unable to subdue 
the young Inca or prevent his raids on travelers 
from Cuzco to Lima, Francisco Pizarro, "with the 
assent of the royal officers who were with him," es- 
tablished the city of Ayacucho at a convenient 
point on the road, so as to make it secure for travel- 
ers. Nevertheless, according to Montesinos, Manco 
caused the good people of Ayacucho quite a little 
trouble. Finally, Francisco Pizarro, "having taken 
one of Manco's wives prisoner with other Indians, 
stripped and flogged her, and then shot her to death 
with arrows." 

Accounts of what happened in Uiticos under the 
rule of Manco are not very satisfactory. Father 
Calancha, who published in 1 639 his " Coronica 
Moralizada,'' or "pious account of the missionary 
activities of the Augustinians" in Peru, says that 
the Inca Manco was obeyed by all the Indians who 
lived in a region extending "for two hundred leagues 
and more toward the east and toward the south, 
where there were innumerable Indians in various 
provinces." With customary monastic zeal and 
proper religious fervor, Father Calancha accuses 


the Inca of compelling the baptized Indians who 
fled to him from the Spaniards to abandon their new 
faith, torturing those who would no longer worship 
the old Inca "idols." This story need not be taken 
too literally, although undoubtedly the escaped 
Indians acted as though they had never been bap- 

Besides Indians fleeing from harsh masters, there 
came to Uilcapampa, in 1542, Gomez Perez, Diego 
Mendez, and half a dozen other Spanish fugitives, 
adherents of Almagro, "rascals," says Calancha, 
"worthy of Manco's favor." Obliged by the civil 
wars of the conquistador es to flee from the Pizarros, 
they were glad enough to find a welcome in Uiticos. 
To while away the time they played games and 
taught the Inca checkers and chess, as well as 
bowling-on-the-green and quoits. Montesinos says 
they also taught him to ride horseback and shoot 
an arquebus. They took their games very seriously 
and occasionally violent disputes arose, one of 
which, as we shall see, was to have fatal conse- 
quences. They were kept informed by Manco of 
what was going on in the viceroyalty. Although 
"encompassed within craggy and lofty mountains," 
the Inca was thoroughly cognizant of all those 
"revolutions" which might be of benefit to him. 

Perhaps the most exciting news that reached 
Uiticos in 1544 was in regard to the arrival of the 
first Spanish viceroy. He brought the New Laws, a 
result of the efforts of the good Bishop Las Casas to 
alleviate the sufferings of the Indians. The New 
Laws provided, among other things, that all the 


officers of the crown were to renounce their repartu 
mientos or holdings of Indian serfs, and that com- 
pulsory personal service was to be entirely abolished. 
Repartimientos given to the conquerors were not to 
pass to their heirs, but were to revert to the king. 
In other words, the New Laws gave evidence that 
the Spanish crown wished to be kind to the Indians 
and did not approve of the Pizarros. This was good 
news for Manco and highly pleasing to the refugees. 
They persuaded the Inca to write a letter to the new 
viceroy, asking permission to appear before him 
and offer his services to the king. The Spanish 
refugees told the Inca that by this means he might 
some day recover his empire, "or at least the best 
part of it." Their object in persuading the Inca to 
send such a message to the viceroy becomes appar- 
ent when we learn that they "also wrote as from 
themselves desiring a pardon for what was past" 
and permission to return to Spanish dominions. 

Gomez Perez, who seems to have been the active 
leader of the little group, was selected to be the 
bearer of the letters from the Inca and the refugees. 
Attended by a dozen Indians whom the Inca in- 
structed to act as his servants and bodyguard, he 
left Uilcapampa, presented his letters to the viceroy, 
and gave him "a large relation of the State and 
Condition of the Inca, and of his true and real 
designs to doe him service." "The Vice-king joy- 
fully received the news, and granted a full and 
ample pardon of all crimes, as desired. And as to 
the Inca, he made many kind expressions of love 
and respect, truly considering that the Interest of 


the Inca might be advantageous to him, both in 
War and Peace. And with this satisfactory answer 
Gomez Perez returned both to the Inca and to his 
companions." The refugees were dehghted with the 
news and got ready to return to king and country. 
Their departure from Uiticos was prevented by a 
tragic accident, thus described by Garcilasso. 

"The Inca, to humour the Spaniards and enter- 
tain himself with them, had given directions for 
making a bowHng-green ; where playing one day 
with Gomez Perez, he came to have some quarrel 
and difference with this Perez about the measure of 
a Cast, which often happened between them; for 
this Perez, being a person of a hot and fiery brain, 
without any judgment or understanding, would 
take the least occasion in the world to contend with 
and provoke the Inca. . . . Being no longer able to 
endure his rudeness, the Inca punched him on the 
breast, and bid him to consider with whom he talked. 
Perez, not considering in his heat and passion either 
his own safety or the safety of his Companions, 
lifted up his hand, and with the bowl struck the 
Inca so violently on the head, that he knocked him 
down. [He died three days later.] The Indians here- 
upon, being enraged by the death of their Prince, 
joined together against Gomez and the Spaniards, 
who fled into a house, and with their Swords in their 
hands defended the door; the Indians set fire to the 
house, which being too hot for them, they sallied out 
into the Marketplace, where the Indians assaulted 
them and shot them with their Arrows until they 
had killed every man of them ; and then afterwards, 


out of mere rage and fury they designed either to 
eat them raw as their custome was, or to burn them 
and cast their ashes into the river, that no sign or 
appearance might remain of them; but at length, 
after some consultation, they agreed to cast their 
bodies into the open fields, to be devoured by vul- 
ters and birds of the air, which they supposed to be 
the highest indignity and dishonour that they could 
show to their Corps." Garcilasso concludes: "I 
informed myself very perfectly from those chiefs 
and nobles who were present and eye-witnesses of 
the unparalleled piece of madness of that rash and 
hair-brained fool; and heard them tell this story to 
my mother and parents with tears in their eyes." 
There are many versions of the tragedy.^ They all 
agree that a Spaniard murdered the Inca. 

1 Another version of this event is that the quarrel was over a game 
of chess between the Inca and Diego Mendez, another of the refugees, 
who lost his temper and called the Inca a dog. Angered at the tone 
and language of his guest, the Inca gave him a blow with his fist. 
Diego Mendez thereupon drew a dagger and killed him. A totally 
different account from the one obtained by Garcilasso from his 
informants is that in a volume purporting to have been dictated to 
Friar Marcos by Manco's son, Titu Cusi, twenty years after the 
event. I quote from Sir Clements Markham's translation: 

"After these Spaniards had been with my Father for several years 
in the said town of Viticos they were one day, with much good fellow- 
ship, playing at quoits with him; only them, my Father and me, who 
was then a boy [ten years old]. Without having any suspicion, al- 
though an Indian woman, named Banba, had said that the Spaniards 
wanted to murder the Inca, my Father was playing with them as 
usual. In this game, just as my Father was raising the quoit to throw, 
they all rushed upon him with knives, daggers and some swords. 
My Father, feeling himself wounded, strove to make some defence, 
but he was one and unarmed, and they were seven fully armed; 
he fell to the ground covered with wounds, and they left him for 
dead. I, being a little boy, and seeing my Father treated in this 
manner, wanted to go where he was to help him. But they turned 


Thus, in 1545, the reign of an attractive and vigor- 
ous personality was brought to an abrupt close. 
Manco left three young sons, Sayri Tupac, Titu 
Cusi, and Tupac Amaru. Sayri Tupac, although he 
had not yet reached his majority, became Inca in his 
father's stead, and with the aid of regents reigned 
for ten years without disturbing his Spanish neigh- 
bors or being annoyed by them, unless the reference 
in Montesinos to a proposed burning of bridges near 
Abancay, under date of 1555, is correct. By a curi- 
ous lapse Montesinos ascribes this attempt to the 
Inca Manco, who had been dead for ten years. In 
1555 there came to Lima a new viceroy, who decided 
that it would be safer if young Sayri Tupac were 
within reach instead of living in the inaccessible 
wilds of Uilcapampa. The viceroy wisely undertook 
to accomplish this difficult matter through the 
Princess Beatrix Coya, an aunt of the Inca, who was 
living in Cuzco. She took kindly to the suggestion 
and dispatched to Uiticos a messenger, of the blood 
royal, attended by Indian servants. The journey 
was a dangerous one; bridges were down and the 

furiously upon me, and hurled a lance which only just failed to kill me 
also. I was terrified and fled amongst some bushes. They looked for 
me, but could not find me. The Spaniards, seeing that my Father 
had ceased to breathe, went out of the gate, in high spirits, saying, 
'Now that we have killed the Inca we have nothing to fear.' But 
at this moment the captain Rimachi Yupanqui arrived with some 
Antis, and presently chased them in such sort that, before they 
could get very far along a difficult road, they were caught and pulled 
from their horses. They all had to suffer very cruel deaths and 
some were burnt. Notwithstanding his wounds my Father lived for 
three days." 

Another version is given by Montesinos in his Anales. It is more 
Uke Titu Cusi's. 


treacherous trails were well-nigh impassable. Sayri 
Tupac's regents permitted the messenger to enter 
Uilcapampa and deliver the viceroy's invitation, 
but were not inclined to believe that it was quite so 
attractive as appeared on the surface, even though 
brought to them by a kinsman. Accordingly, they 
kept the visitor as a hostage and sent a messenger 
of their own to Cuzco to see if any foul play could 
be discovered, and also to request that one John 
Sierra, a more trusted cousin, be sent to treat in this 
matter. All this took time. 

In 1558 the viceroy, becoming impatient, dis- 
patched from Lima Friar Melchior and one John 
Betanzos, who had married the daughter of the 
unfortunate Inca Atahualpa and pretended to be 
very learned in his wife's language. Montesinos 
says he was a "great linguist." They started off 
quite confidently for Uiticos, taking with them sev- 
eral pieces of velvet and damask, and two cups of 
gilded silver as presents. Anxious to secure the 
honor of being the first to reach the Inca, they trav- 
eled as fast as they could to the Chuquichaca bridge, 
"the key to the valley of Uiticos." Here they were 
detained by the soldiers of the regents. A day or so 
later John Sierra, the Inca's cousin from Cuzco, 
arrived at the bridge and was allowed to proceed, 
while the friar and Betanzos were still detained. 
John Sierra was welcomed by the Inca and his 
nobles, and did his best to encourage Sayri Tupac to 
accept the viceroy's offer. Finally John Betanzos 
and the friar were also sent for and admitted to the 
presence of the Inca, with the presents which the 


viceroy had sent. Sayri Tupac's first idea was to 
remain free and independent as he had hitherto 
done, so he requested the ambassadors to depart 
immediately with their silver gilt cups. They were 
sent back by one of the western routes across the 
Apurimac. A few days later, however, after John 
Sierra had told him some interesting stories of life 
in Cuzco, the Inca decided to reconsider the matter. 
His regents had a long debate, observed the flying of 
birds and the nature of the weather, but according 
to Garcilasso "made no inquiries of the devil." The 
omens were favorable and the regents finally decided 
to allow the Inca to accept the invitation of the 

Sayri Tupac, anxious to see something of the 
world, went directly to Lima, traveling in a litter 
made of rich materials, carried by relays chosen 
from the three hundred Indians who attended him. 
He was kindly received by the viceroy, and then 
went to Cuzco, where he lodged in his aunt's house. 
Here his relatives went to welcome him. "I, my- 
self," says Garcilasso, "went in the name of my 
Father. I found him then playing a certain game 
used amongst the Indians. ... I kissed his hands, 
and delivered my Message; he commanded me to 
sit down, and presently they brought two gilded 
cups of that Liquor, made of Mayz [chicha] which 
scarce contained four ounces of Drink; he took them 
both, and with his own Hand he gave one of them 
to me; he drank, and I pledged him, which as we 
have said, is the custom of Civility amongst them. 
This Ceremony being past, he asked me, Why I did 


not meet him at Uillcapampa. I answered him, 
'Inca, as I am but a Youngman, the Governours 
make no account of me, to place me in such Cere- 
monies as these! 'How,' repHed the Inca, 'I would 
rather have seen you than all the Friers and Fa- 
thers in Town.' As I was going away I made him a 
submissive bow and reverence, after the manner of 
the Indians, who are of his Alliance and Kindred, at 
which he was so much pleased, that he embraced me 
heartily, and with much affection, as appeared by 
his Countenance." 

Sayri Tupac now received the sacred Red Fringe 
of Inca sovereignty, was married to a princess of 
the blood royal, joined her in baptism, and took up 
his abode in the beautiful valley of Yucay, a day's 
journey northeast of Cuzco, and never returned to 
Uiticos. His only daughter finally married a certain 
Captain Garcia, of whom more anon. Sayri Tupac 
died in 1560, leaving two brothers; the older, Titu 
Cusi Yupanqui, illegitimate, and the younger, 
Tupac Amaru, his rightful successor, an inexperi- 
enced youth. 

The throne of Uiticos was seized by Titu Cusl. 
The new Inca seems to have been suspicious of the 
untimely death of Sayri Tupac, and to have felt 
that the Spaniards were capable of more foul play. 
So with his half-brother he stayed quietly in Uilca- 
pampa. Their first visitor, so far as we know, was 
Diego Rodriguez de Figueroa, who wrote an inter- 
esting account of Uiticos and says he gave the Inca 
a pair of scissors. He was unsuccessful in his efforts 
to get Titu Cusi to go to Cuzco. In time there came 




an Augustinian missionary, Friar Marcos Garcia, 
who, six years after the death of Sayri Tupac, en- 
tered the rough country of Uilcapampa, "a land of 
moderate wealth, large rivers, and the usual rains," 
whose "forested mountains," says Father Calancha, 
"are magnificent." Friar Marcos had a hard jour- 
ney. The bridges were down, the roads had been de- 
stroyed, and the passes blocked up. The few Indians 
who did occasionally appear in Cuzco from Uilca- 
pampa said the friar could not get there "unless he 
should be able to change himself into a bird." How- 
ever, with that courage and pertinacity which have 
marked so many missionary enterprises. Friar 
Marcos finally overcame all difficulties and reached 

The missionary chronicler says that Titu Cusi 
was far from glad to see him and received him 
angrily. It worried him to find that a Spaniard had 
succeeded in penetrating his retreat. Besides, the 
Inca was annoyed to have any one preach against 
his "idolatries." Titu Cusi's own story, as written 
down by Friar Marcos, does not agree with Calan- 
cha's. Anyhow, Friar Marcos built a little church 
in a place called Puquiura, where many of the Inca's 
people were then living. "He planted crosses in 
the fields and on the mountains, these being the 
best things to frighten off devils." He "suffered 
many insults at the hands of the chiefs and princi- 
pal followers of the Inca. Some of them did it to 
please the Devil, others to flatter the Inca, and 
many because they disliked his sermons, in which 
he scolded them for their vices and abominated 


among his converts the possession of four or six 
wives. So they punished him in the matter of food, 
and forced him to send to Cuzco for victuals. The 
Convent sent him hard-tack, which was for him a 
most dehcious banquet." 

Within a year or so another Augustinian mission- 
ary, Friar Diego Ortiz, left Cuzco alone for Uilca- 
pampa. He suffered much on the road, but finally 
reached the retreat of the Inca and entered his 
presence in company with Friar Marcos. "Al- 
though the Inca was not too happy to see a new 
preacher, he was willing to grant him an entrance 
because the Inca . . . thought Friar Diego would 
not vex him nor take the trouble to reprove him. 
So the Inca gave him a license. They selected the 
town of Huarancalla, which was populous and well 
located in the midst of a number of other little towns 
and villages. There was a distance of two or three 
days journey from one Convent to the other. Leav- 
ing Friar Marcos in Puquiura, Friar Diego went to 
his new establishment and in a short time built a 
church, a house for himself, and a hospital, — all 
poor buildings made in a short time." He also 
started a school for children, and became very popu- 
lar as he went about healing and teaching. He had 
an easier time than Friar Marcos, who, with less 
tact and no skill as a physician, was located nearer 
the center of the Inca cult. 

The principal shrine of the Inca is described by 
Father Calancha as follows: "Close to Vitcos [or 
Uiticos] in a village called Chuquipalpa, is a House 
of the Sun, and in it a white rock over a spring of 


water where the Devil appears as a visible mani- 
festation and was worshipped by those idolators. 
This was the principal mochadero of those forested 
mountains. The word 'mochadero'^ is the common 
name which the Indians apply to their places of 
worship. In other words it is the only place where 
they practice the sacred ceremony of kissing. The 
origin of this, the principal part of their ceremonial, 
is that very practice which Job abominates when he 
solemnly clears himself of all offences before God 
and says to Him: 'Lord, all these punishments and 
even greater burdens would I have deserved had I 
done that which the blind Gentiles do when the sun 
rises resplendent or the moon shines clear and they 
exult in their hearts and extend their hands toward 
the sun and throw kisses to it,' an act of very grave 
iniquity which is equivalent to denying the true 

Thus does the ecclesiastical chronicler refer to the 
practice in Peru of that particular form of worship 
of the heavenly bodies which was also widely spread 
in the East, in Arabia, and Palestine and was in- 
veighed against by Mohammed as well as the 
ancient Hebrew prophets. Apparently this cere- 
mony "of the most profound resignation and rever- 
ence" was practiced in Chuquipalpa, close to Uiti- 
cos, in the reign of the Inca Titu Cusi. 

Calancha goes on to say: "In this white stone of 
the aforesaid House of the Sun, which is called 
Yurac Rumi [meaning, in Quichua, a white rock], 

^ A Spanish derivative from the Quichua mucha, "a. kiss." Mu* 
chant means "to adore, to reverence, to kiss the hands." 


there attends a Devil who is Captain of a legion. He 
and his legionaries show great kindness to the Indian 
idolators, but great terrors to the Catholics. They 
abuse with hideous cruelties the baptized ones who 
now no longer worship them with kisses, and many 
of the Indians have died from the horrible frights 
these devils have given them." 

One day, when the Inca and his mother and their 
principal chiefs and counselors were away from 
Uiticos on a visit to some of their outlying estates, 
Friar Marcos and Friar Diego decided to make a 
spectacular attack on this particular Devil, who 
was at the great "white rock over a spring of water." 
The two monks summoned all their converts to 
gather at Puquiura, in the church or the neighboring 
plaza, and asked each to bring a stick of firewood 
in order that they might burn up this Devil who 
had tormented them. "An innumerable multitude" 
came together on the day appointed. The con- 
verted Indians were most anxious to get even with 
this Devil who had slain their friends and inflicted 
wounds on themselves; the doubters were curious 
to see the result; the Inca priests were there to see 
their god defeat the Christians' ; while, as may read- 
ily be imagined, the rest of the population came to 
see the excitement. Starting out from Pucyura they 
marched to "the Temple of the Sun, in the village of 
Chuquipalpa, close to Uiticos." 

Arrived at the sacred palisade, the monks raised 
the standard of the cross, recited their orisons, sur- 
rounded the spring, the white rock and the Temple 
of the Sun, and piled high the firewood. Then, hav- 


ing exorcised the locality, they called the Devil by 
all the vile names they could think of, to show their 
lack of respect, and finally commanded him never 
to return to this vicinity. Calling on Christ and the 
Virgin, they applied fire to the wood. "The poor 
Devil then fled roaring in a fury, and making the 
mountains to tremble." 

It took remarkable courage on the part of the two 
lone monks thus to desecrate the chief shrine of the 
people among whom they were dwelling. It is almost 
incredible that in this remote valley, separated from 
their friends and far from the protecting hand of the 
Spanish viceroy, they should have dared to commit 
such an insult to the religion of their hosts. Of 
course, as soon as the Inca Titu Cusi heard of it, 
he was greatly annoyed. His mother was furious. 
They returned immediately to Pucyura. The chiefs 
wished to " slay the monks and tear them into small 
pieces," and undoubtedly would have done so had it 
not been for the regard in which Friar Diego was 
held. His skill in curing disease had so endeared 
him to the Indians that even the Inca himself dared 
not punish him for the attack on the Temple of the 
Sun. Friar Marcos, however, who probably origi- 
nated the plan, and had done little to gain the good 
will of the Indians, did not fare so well. Calancha 
says he was stoned out of the province and the Inca 
threatened to kill him if he ever should return. 
Friar Diego, particularly beloved by those Indians 
who came from the fever-stricken jungles in the 
lower valleys, was allowed to remain, and finally 
became a trusted friend and adviser of Titu Cusi. 


One day a Spaniard named Romero, an adventur- 
ous prospector for gold, was found penetrating the 
mountain valleys, and succeeded in getting permis- 
sion from the Inca to see what minerals were there. 
He was too successful. Both gold and silver were 
found among the hills and he showed enthusiastic 
delight at his good fortune. The Inca, fearing that 
his reports might encourage others to enter Uilca- 
pampa, put the unfortunate prospector to death, 
notwithstanding the protestations of Friar Diego. 
Foreigners were not wanted in Uilcapampa. 

In the year 1570, ten years after the accession of 
Titu Cusi to the Inca throne in Uiticos, a new Span- 
ish viceroy came to Cuzco. Unfortunately for the 
Incas, Don Francisco de Toledo, an indefatigable 
soldier and administrator, was excessively bigoted, 
narrow-minded, cruel, and pitiless. Furthermore, 
Philip II and his Council of the Indies had decided 
that it would be worth while to make every effort 
to get the Inca out of Uiticos. For thirty-five years 
the Spanish conquerors had occupied Cuzco and the 
major portion of Peru without having been able to 
secure the submission of the Indians who lived in 
the province of Uilcapampa. It would be a great 
feather in the cap of Toledo if he could induce Titu 
Cusi to come and live where he would always be 
accessible to Spanish authority. 

During the ensuing rainy season, after an unusu- 
ally lively party, the Inca got soaked, had a chill, 
and was laid low. In the meantime the viceroy had 
picked out a Cuzco soldier, one Tilano de Anaya, 
who was well liked by the Inca, to try to persuade 


TItu Cusi to come to Cuzco. Tilano was instructed 
to go by way of Ollantaytambo and the Chuqui- 
chaca bridge. Luck was against him. Titu Cusi's 
illness was very serious. Friar Diego, his physician, 
had prescribed the usual remedies. Unfortunately, 
all the monk's skill was unavailing and his royal 
patient died. The "remedies" were held by Titu 
Cusi's mother and her counselors to be responsible. 
The poor friar had to suffer the penalty of death 
"for having caused the death of the Inca." 

The third son of Manco, Tupac Amaru, brought 
up as a playfellow of the Virgins of the Sun in the 
Temple near Uiticos, and now happily married, was 
selected to rule the little kingdom. His brows were 
decked with the Scarlet Fringe of Sovereignty, but, 
thanks to the jealous fear of his powerful illegitimate 
brother, his training had not been that of a soldier. 
He was destined to have a brief, unhappy existence. 
When the young Inca's counselors heard that a 
messenger was coming from the viceroy, seven war- 
riors were sent to meet him on the road. Tilano was 
preparing to spend the night at the Chuquichaca 
bridge when he was attacked and killed. 

The viceroy heard of the murder of his ambassa- 
dor at the same time that he learned of the martyr- 
dom of Friar Diego. A blow had been struck at the 
very heart of Spanish domination ; if the represent- 
atives of the Vice-Regent of Heaven and the mes- 
sengers of the viceroy of Philip H were not invio- 
lable, then who was safe? On Palm Sunday the 
energetic Toledo, surrounded by his council, deter- 
mined to make war on the unfortunate young Tupac 


Amaru and give a reward to the soldier who would 
effect his capture. The council was of the opinion 
that "many Insurrections might be raised in that 
Empire by this young Heir." "Moreover it was 
alledged," says Garcilasso, . . . "That by the Im- 
prisonment of the Inca, all that Treasure might be 
discovered, which appertained to former kings, 
together with that Chain of Gold, which Huayna 
Capac commanded to be made for himself to wear 
on the great and solemn days of their Festival"! 
Furthermore, the "Chain of Gold with the remain- 
ing Treasure belonged to his Catholic Majesty by 
right of Conquest"! Excuses were not wanting. 
The Incas must be exterminated. 

The expedition was divided into two parts. One 
company was sent by way of Limatambo to Cura- 
huasi, to head off the Inca in case he should cross 
the Apurimac and try to escape by one of the routes 
which had formerly been used by his father, Manco, 
in his marauding expeditions. The other company, 
under General Martin Hurtado and Captain Garcia, 
marched from Cuzco by way of Yucay and Ollantay- 
tambo. They were more fortunate than Captain 
Villadiego whose force, thirty-five years before, 
had been met and destroyed at the pass of Panti- 
calla. That was in the days of the active Inca 
Manco. Now there was no force defending this 
important pass. They descended the Lucumayo to 
its junction with the Urubamba and came to the 
bridge of Chuquichaca. 

The narrow suspension bridge, built of native 
fibers, sagged deeply in the middle and swayed so 


threateningly over the gorge of the Urubamba that 
only one man could pass it at a time. The rapid river 
was too deep to be forded. There were no canoes. 
It would have been a difficult matter to have con- 
structed rafts, for most of the trees that grow here 
are of hard wood and do not float. On the other side 
of the Urubamba was young Tupac Amaru, sur- 
rounded by his councilors, chiefs, and soldiers. The 
first hostile forces which in Pizarro's time had en- 
deavored to fight their way into Uilcapampa had 
never been allowed by Manco to get as far as this. 
His youngest son, Tupac Amaru, had had no experi- 
ence in these matters. The chiefs and nobles had 
failed to defend the pass; and they now failed to 
destroy the Chuquichaca bridge, apparently relying 
on their ability to take care of one Spanish soldier at 
a time and prevent the Spaniards from crossing the 
narrow, swaying structure. General Hurtado was 
not taking any such chances. He had brought with 
him one or two light mountain field pieces, with 
which the raw troops of the Inca were little ac- 
quainted. The sides of the valley at this point rise 
steeply from the river and the reverberations caused 
by gun fire would be fairly terrifying to those who 
had never heard anything like it before. A few 
volleys from the guns and the arquebuses, and the 
Indians fled pellmell in every direction, leaving the 
bridge undefended. 

Captain Garcia, who had married the daughter 
of Sayri Tupac, was sent in pursuit of the Inca. 
His men found the road "narrow in the ascent, with 
forest on the right, and on the left a ravine of great 


depth." It was only a footpath, barely wide enough 
for two men to pass. Garcia, with customary Span- 
ish bravery, marched at the head of his company. 
Suddenly out of the thick forest an Inca chieftain 
named Hualpa, endeavoring to protect the flight of 
Tupac Amaru, sprang on Garcia, held him so that 
he could not get at his sword and endeavored to hurl 
him over the cliff. The captain's life was saved by a 
faithful Indian servant who was following immedi- 
ately behind him, carrying his sword. Drawing it 
from the scabbard "with much dexterity and ani- 
mation," the Indian killed Hualpa and saved his 
master's life. 

Garcia fought several battles, took some forts and 
succeeded in capturing many prisoners. From them 
it was learned that the Inca had " gone inland 
toward the valley of Simaponte; and that he was 
flying to the country of the Manaries Indians, a 
warlike tribe and his friends, where balsas and 
canoes were posted to save him and enable him to 
escape." Nothing daunted by the dangers of the 
jungle nor the rapids of the river, Garcia finally 
managed to construct five rafts, on which he put 
some of his soldiers. Accompanying them himself, 
he descended the rapids, escaping death many 
times by swimming, and finally arrived at a place 
called Momori, only to find that the Inca, learning 
of their approach, had gone farther into the woods. 
Garcia followed hard after, although he and his 
men were by this time barefooted and suff^ering from 
want of food. They finally captured the Inca. 
Garcilasso says that Tupac Amaru, "considering 


that he had not People to make resistance, and that 
he was not conscious to himself of any Crime, or 
disturbance he had done or raised, suffered himself 
to be taken; choosing rather to entrust himself in 
the hands of the Spaniards, than to perish in those 
Mountains with Famine, or be drowned in those 
great Rivers. . . . The Spaniards in this manner 
seizing on the Inca, and on all the Indian Men and 
Women, who were in Company with him, amongst 
which was his Wife, two Sons, and a Daughter, 
returned with them in Triumph to Cuzco ; to which 
place the Vice-King went, so soon as he was in- 
formed of the imprisonment of the poor Prince." 
A mock trial was held. The captured chiefs were 
tortured to death with fiendish brutality. Tupac 
Amaru's wife was mangled before his eyes. His 
own head was cut off and placed on a pole in the 
Cuzco Plaza. His little boys did not long survive. 
So perished the last of the Incas, descendants of the 
wisest Indian rulers America has ever seen. 

1534. The Inca Manco ascends the throne of his fathers. 
1536. Manco flees from Cuzco to Uiticos and Uilcapampa. 
1542. Promulgation of the "New Laws." 
1545. Murder of Manco and accession of his son Sayri Tupac. 
1555. Sayri Tupac goes to Cuzco and Yucay. 
1560. Death of Sayri Tupac. His half brother Titu Cusi becomes 

1566. Friar Marcos reaches Uiticos. Settles in Puquiura. 
1566. Friar Diego joins him. 
1568-9 (?). They burn the House of the Sun at Yurac Rumi in 


1571. Titu Cusi dies. Friar Diego suffers martyrdom. Tupac 
Amaru becomes Inca. 

1572. Expedition of General Martin Hurtado and Captain 
Garcia de Loyola. Execution of Tupac Amaru. 



THE events described in the preceding chapter 
happened, for the most part, in Uiticos ^ and 
Uilcapampa, northwest of Ollantaytambo, about one 
hundred miles away from the Cuzco palace of the 
Spanish viceroy, in what Prescott calls "the remote 
fastnesses of the Andes." One looks in vain for 
Uiticos on modern maps of Peru, although several of 
the older maps give it. In 1625 "Viticos" is marked 
on de Laet's map of Peru as a mountainous province 
northeast of Lima and three hundred and fifty miles 
northwest of Vilcabamba! This error was copied by 
some later cartographers, including Mercator, until 
about 1740, when "Viticos" disappeared from all 
maps of Peru. The map makers had learned that 
there was no such place in that vicinity. Its real 
location was lost about three hundred years ago. A 
map pubhshed at Nuremberg in 1599 gives " Pincos" 
in the "Andes" mountains, a small range west of 
" Cusco." This does not seem to have been adopted 
by other cartographers ; although a Paris map of 1 739 
gives "Picos" in about the same place. Nearly all 
the cartographers of the eighteenth century who give 
"Viticos" supposed it to be the name of a tribe, e.g., 
"Los Viticos" or "Les Viticos." 

* Uiticos is probably derived from Uiticuni, meaning "to withdraw 
to a distance." 


The largest official map of Peru, the work of that 
remarkable explorer, Raimondi, who spent his life 
crossing and recrossing Peru, does not contain the 
word Uiticos nor any of its numerous spellings, 
Viticos, Vitcos, Pitcos, or Biticos. Incidentally, it 
may seem strange that Uiticos could ever be written 
"Biticos." The Quichua language has no sound of 
V. The early Spanish writers, however, wrote the 
capital letter U exactly like a capital V. In official 
documents and letters Uiticos became Viticos. The 
official readers, who had never heard the word pro- 
nounced, naturally used the V sound instead of the 
U sound. Both V and P easily become B. So Uiticos 
became Biticos and Uilcapampa became Vilca- 

Raimondi's marvelous energy led him to pene- 
trate to more out-of-the-way Peruvian villages than 
any one had ever done before or is likely to do againc 
He stopped at nothing in the way of natural obsta- 
cles. In 1865 he went deep into the heart of Uilca- 
pampa; yet found no Uiticos. He believed that the 
ruins of Choqquequirau represented the residence 
of the last Incas. This view had been held by the 
French explorer. Count de Sartiges, in 1834, who 
believed that Choqquequirau was abandoned when 
Sayri Tupac, Manco's oldest son, went to live in 
Yucay. Raimondi's view was also held by the 
leading Peruvian geographers, including Paz Soldan 
in 1877, and by Prefect Nunez and his friends in 
1909, at the time of my visit to Choqquequirau.^ 
The only dissenter was the learned Peruvian his- 

* Described in "Across South America." 


torian, Don Carlos Romero, who Insisted that the 
last Inca capital must be found elsewhere. He 
urged the importance of searching for Uiticos in the 
valleys of the rivers now called Vilcabamba and 
Urubamba. It was to be the work of the Yale 
Peruvian Expedition of 191 1 to collect the geo- 
graphical evidence which would meet the require- 
ments of the chronicles and establish the where- 
abouts of the long- lost Inca capital. 

That there were undescribed and unidentified 
ruins to be found in the Urubamba Valley was 
known to a few people in Cuzco, mostly wealthy 
planters who had large estates in the province of 
Convencion. One told us that he went to Santa Ana 
every year and was acquainted with a muleteer 
who had told him of some interesting ruins near the 
San Miguel bridge. Knowing the propensity of his 
countrymen to exaggerate, however, he placed little 
confidence in the story and, shrugging his shoulders, 
had crossed the bridge a score of times without 
taking the trouble to look into the matter. Another, 
Senor Pancorbo, whose plantation was in the Vilca- 
bamba Valley, said that he had heard vague rumors 
of ruins in the valley above his plantation, particu- 
larly near Pucyura. If his story should prove to be 
correct, then it was likely that this might be the 
very Puquiura where Friar Marcos had established 
the first church in the "province of Uilcapampa." 
But that was ** near " Uiticos and near a village called 
Chuquipalpa, where should be found the ruins of a 
Temple of the Sun, and in these ruins a "white rock 
over a spring of water." Yet neither these friendly 


planters nor the friends among whom they inquired 
had ever heard of Uiticos or a place called Chuqui- 
palpa, or of such an interesting rock; nor had they 
themselves seen the ruins of which they had heard. 
One of Seiior Lomellini's friends, a talkative old 
fellow who had spent a large part of his life in 
prospecting for mines in the department of Cuzco, 
said that he had seen ruins "finer than Choqque- 
quirau" at a place called Huayna Picchu; but he 
had never been to Choqquequirau. Those who knew 
him best shrugged their shoulders and did not seem 
to place much confidence in his word. Too often he 
had been over-enthusiastic about mines which did 
not "pan out." Yet his report resembled that of 
Charles Wiener, a French explorer, who, about 1875, 
in the course of his wanderings in the Andes, visited 
Ollantaytambo. While there he was told that there 
were fine ruins down the Urubamba Valley at a 
place called "Huaina- Picchu or Matcho-Picchu." 
He decided to go down the valley and look for these 
ruins. According to his text he crossed the Pass of 
Panticalla, descended the Lucumayo River to the 
bridge of Choqquechacca, and visited the lower Uru- 
bamba, returning by the same route. He published 
a detailed map of the valley. To one of its peaks 
he gives the name "Huaynapicchu, ele. 1815 m." 
and to another " Matchopicchu, ele. 1720 m." His 
interest in Inca ruins was very keen. He devotes 
pages to Ollantaytambo. He failed to reach Machu 
Picchu or to find any ruins of importance in 
the Urubamba or Vilcabamba valleys. Could we 
hope to be any more successful? Would the rumors 


that had reached us "pan out" as badly as those to 
which Wiener had Hstened so eagerly? Since his day, 
to be sure, the Peruvian Government had actually 
finished a road which led past Machu Picchu. On 
the other hand, a Harvard Anthropological Expedi- 
tion, under the leadership of Dr. William C. Farra- 
bee, had recently been over this road without re- 
porting any ruins of importance. They were looking 
for savages and not ruins. Nevertheless, if Machu 
Picchu was "finer than Choqquequirau" why had 
no one pointed it out to them? 

To most of our friends in Cuzco the idea that 
there could be anything finer than Choqquequi- 
rau seemed absurd. They regarded that "cradle of 
gold" as "the most remarkable archeological dis- 
covery of recent times." They assured us there was 
nothing half so good. They even assumed that we 
were secretly planning to return thither to dig for 
buried treasure! Denials were of no avail. To a peo- 
ple whose ancestors made fortunes out of lucky 
"strikes," and who themselves have been brought 
up on stories of enormous wealth still remaining to 
be discovered by some fortunate excavator, the ques- 
tion of tesoro — treasure, wealth, riches — is an ever- 
present source of conversation. Even the prefect 
of Cuzco was quite unable to conceive of my doing 
anything for the love of discovery. He was con- 
vinced that I should find great riches at Choqque- 
quirau — and that I was in receipt of a very large 
salary! He refused to believe that the members of 
the Expedition received no more than their expenses. 
He told me confidentially that Professor Foote 

J ,• , V 1 A 

5 / o>-— f^^V 


would sell his collection of insects for at least 
$10,000! Peruvians have not been accustomed 
to see any one do scientific work except as he was 
paid by the government or employed by a railroad 
or mining company. We have frequently found our 
work misunderstood and regarded with suspicion, 
even by the Cuzco Historical Society. 

The valley of the Urubamba, or Uilcamayu, as it 
used to be called, may be reached from Cuzco in 
several ways. The usual route for those going to 
Yucay is northwest from the city, over the great 
Andean highway, past the slopes of Mt. Seneca. 
At Ttica-Ttica (12,000 ft.) the road crosses the 
lowest pass at the western end of the Cuzco Basin. 
At the last point from which one can see the city of 
Cuzco, all true Indians, whether on their way out of 
the valley or into it, pause, turn toward the east, 
facing the city, remove their hats and mutter a 
prayer. I believe that the words they use now are 
those of the ''Ave Maria," or some other familiar 
orison of the Catholic Church. Nevertheless, the 
custom undoubtedly goes far back of the advent of 
the first Spanish missionaries. It is probably a relic 
of the ancient habit of worshiping the rising sun. 
During the centuries immediately preceding the 
conquest, the city of Cuzco was the residence of the 
Inca himself, that divine individual who was at 
once the head of Church and State. Nothing would 
have been more natural than for persons coming in 
sight of his residence to perform an act of venera- 
tion. This in turn might have led those leaving the 


city to fall into the same habit at the same point in 
the road. I have watched hundreds of travelers pass 
this point. None of those whose European costume 
proclaimed a white or mixed ancestry stopped to 
pray or make obeisance. On the other hand, all 
those, without exception, who were clothed in a 
native costume, which betokened that they con- 
sidered themselves to be Indians rather than whites, 
paused for a moment, gazing at the ancient city, 
removed their hats, and said a short prayer. 

Leaving Ttica-Ttica, we went northward for 
several leagues, passed the town of Chlncheros, with 
its old Inca walls, and came at length to the edge of 
the wonderful valley of Yucay. In its bottom are 
great level terraces rescued from the Urubamba 
River by the untiring energy of the ancient folk. On 
both sides of the valley the steep slopes bear many 
remains of narrow terraces, some of which are still 
in use. Above them are ^'temporales," fields of 
grain, resting like a patch-work quilt on slopes so 
steep it seems incredible they could be cultivated. 
Still higher up, their heads above the clouds, are 
the jagged snow-capped peaks. The whole offers a 
marvelous picture, rich in contrast, majestic in pro- 
portion. In Yucay once dwelt the Inca Manco's old- 
est son, Sayri Tupac, after he had accepted the vice- 
roy's invitation to come under Spanish protection. 
Here he lived three years and here, in 1560, he died 
an untimely death under circumstances which led 
his brothers, Titu Cusi and Tupac Amaru, to think 
that they would be safer in Uiticos. We spent the 
night in Urubamba, the modern capital of the prov- 


ince, much favored by Peruvians of to-day because 
of its abundant water supply, delightful climate, 
and rich fruits. Cuzco, 11,000 feet, is too high to 
have charming surroundings, but two thousand feet 
lower, in the Urubamba Valley, there is everything 
to please the eye and delight the horticulturist. 

Speaking of horticulturists reminds me of their 
enemies. Uru is the Quichua word for caterpillars or 
grubs, pampa means flat land. Urubamba is " flat- 
land-where-there-are-grubs-or-caterpillars." Had it 
been named by people who came up from a warm 
region where insects abound, it would hardly have 
been so denominated. Only people not accustomed 
to land where caterpillars and grubs flourished would 
have been struck by such a circumstance. Conse- 
quently, the valley was probably named by plateau 
dwellers who were working their way down into a 
warm region where butterflies and moths are more 
common. Notwithstanding its celebrated cater- 
pillars, Urubamba's gardens of to-day are full of 
roses, lilies, and other brilliant flowers. There are 
orchards of peaches, pears, and apples; there are 
fields where luscious strawberries are raised for the 
Cuzco market. Apparently, the grubs do not get 

The next day down the valley brought us to 
romantic Ollantaytambo, described in glowing 
terms by Castelnau, Marcou, Wiener, and Squier 
many years ago. It has lost none of its charm, even 
though Marcou's drawings are imaginary and 
Squier's are exaggerated. Here, as at Urubamba, 
there are flower gardens and highly cultivated green 


fields. The brooks are shaded by willows and pop- 
lars. Above them are magnificent precipices crowned 
by snow-capped peaks. The village itself was once 
the capital of an ancient principality whose history 
is shrouded in mystery. There are ruins of curious 
gabled buildings, storehouses, "prisons," or "mon- 
asteries," perched here and there on well-nigh in- 
accessible crags above the village. Below are broad 
terraces of unbelievable extent where abundant 
crops are still harvested; terraces which will stand 
for ages to come as monuments to the energy and 
skill of a bygone race. The "fortress" is on a little 
hill, surrounded by steep clififs, high walls, and hang- 
ing gardens so as to be difficult of access. Centuries 
ago, when the tribe which cultivated the rich fields 
in this valley lived in fear and terror of their savage 
neighbors, this hill ofTered a place of refuge to which 
they could retire. It may have been fortified at that 
time. As centuries passed in which the land came 
under the control of the Incas, whose chief interest 
was the peaceful promotion of agriculture, it is 
likely that this fortress became a royal garden. The 
six great ashlars of reddish granite weighing fifteen 
or twenty tons each, and placed in line on the sum- 
mit of the hill, were brought from a quarry several 
miles away with an immense amount of labor and 
pains. They were probably intended to be a record 
of the magnificence of an able ruler. Not only could 
he command the services of a sufficient number of 
men to extract these rocks from the quarry and 
carry them up an inclined plane from the bottom 
of the valley to the summit of the hill; he had to 



supply the men with food. The building of such a 
monument meant taking five hundred Indians away 
from their ordinary occupations as agriculturists. 
He must have been a very good administrator. To 
his people the magnificent megaliths were doubtless 
a source of pride. To his enemies they were a sym- 
bol of his power and might. 

A league below Ollantaytambo the road forks. 
The right branch ascends a steep valley and crosses 
the pass of Panticalla near snow-covered Mt. Veron- 
ica. Near the pass are two groups of ruins. One of 
them, extravagantly referred to by Wiener as a 
"granite palace, whose appearance [appareil] re- 
sembles the more beautiful parts of Ollantaytambo," 
was only a storehouse. The other was probably a 
tampu, or inn, for the benefit of official travelers. 
All travelers in Inca times, even the bearers of 
burdens, were acting under official orders. Com- 
mercial business was unknown. The rights of per- 
sonal property were not understood. No one had 
anything to sell; no one had any money to buy it 
with. On the other hand, the Incas had an elaborate 
system of tax collecting. Two thirds of the produce 
raised by their subjects was claimed by the civil and 
religious rulers. It was a reasonable provision of the 
benevolent despotism of the Incas that inhospitable 
regions like the Panticalla Pass near Mt. Veronica 
should be provided with suitable rest houses and 
storehouses. Polo de Ondegardo, an able and ac- 
complished statesman, who was in office in Cuzco 
in 1560, says that the food of the chasquis, Inca post 
runners, was provided from official storehouses; 


"those who worked for the Inca's service, or for re- 
ligion, never ate at their own expense." In Manco's 
day these buildings at Havaspampa probably shel- 
tered the outpost which defeated Captain Villadiego. 

Before the completion of the river road, about 
1895, travelers from Cuzco to the lower Urubamba 
had a choice of two routes, one by way of the pass 
of Panticalla, followed by Captain Garcia in 1571, 
by General Miller in 1835, Castelnau in 1842, and 
Wiener in 1875 ; and one by way of the pass between 
Mts. Salcantay and So ray, along the Salcantay 
River to Huadquina, followed by the Count de 
Sartiges in 1834 and Raimondi in 1865. Both of 
these routes avoid the highlands between- Mt. Sal- 
cantay and Mt. Veronica and the lowlands between 
the villages of Piri and Huadquiiia. This region was 
in 191 1 undescribed in the geographical literature of 
southern Peru. We decided not to use either pass, 
but to go straight down the Urubamba river road. 
It led us into a fascinating country. 

Two leagues beyond Piri, at Salapunco, the road 
skirts the base of precipitous cliffs, the begin- 
nings of a wonderful mass of granite mountains 
which have made Uilcapampa more difficult of 
access than the surrounding highlands which are 
composed of schists, conglomerates, and limestone. 
Salapunco is the natural gateway to the ancient 
province, but it was closed for centuries by the com- 
bined efforts of nature and man. The Urubamba 
River, in cutting its way through the granite range, 
forms rapids too dangerous to be passable and 
precipices which can be scaled only with great effort 


and considerable peril. At one time a footpath 
probably ran near the river, where the Indians, by 
crawling along the face of the cliff and sometimes 
swinging from one ledge to another on hanging 
vines, were able to make their way to any of the 
alluvial terraces down the valley. Another path may 
have gone over the cliffs above the fortress, where 
we noticed, in various inaccessible places, the re- 
mains of walls built on narrow ledges. They were too 
narrow and too irregular to have been intended to 
support agricultural terraces. They may have been 
built to make the cliff more precipitous. They prob- 
ably represent the foundations of an old trail. To 
defend these ancient paths we found that prehistoric 
man had built, at the foot of the precipices, close 
to the river, a small but powerful fortress whose 
ruins now pass by the name of Salapunco ; sala = 
ruins ; punco = gateway. Fashioned after famous 
Sacsahuaman and resembling it in the irregular 
character of the large ashlars and also by reason 
of the salients and reentrant angles which enabled 
its defenders to prevent the walls being successfully 
scaled, it presents an interesting problem. 

Commanding as it does the entrance to the valley 
of Torontoy, Salapunco may have been built by 
some ancient chief to enable him to levy tribute on 
all who passed. My first impression was that the 
fortress was placed here, at the end of the temperate 
zone, to defend the valleys of Urubamba and Ollan- 
taytambo against savage enemies coming up from 
the forests of the Amazon. On the other hand, it is 
possible that Salapunco was built by the tribes 


occupying the fastnesses of Uilcapampa as an out- 
post to defend them against enemies coming down 
the valley from the direction of Ollantaytambo. 
They could easily have held it against a consider- 
able force, for it is powerfully built and constructed 
with skill. Supplies from the plantations of Toron- 
toy, lower down the river, might have reached it 
along the path which antedated the present govern- 
ment road. Salapunco may have been occupied by 
the troops of the Inca Manco when he established 
himself in Uiticos and ruled over Uilcapampa. He 
could hardly, however, have built a megalithic work 
of this kind. It is more likely that he would have 
destroyed the narrow trails than have attempted to 
hold the fort against the soldiers of Pizarro. Further- 
more, Its style and character seem to date it with 
the well-known megalithic structures of Cuzco and 
Ollantaytambo. This makes it seem all the more 
extraordinary that Salapunco could ever have been 
built as a defense against Ollantaytambo, unless it 
was built by folk who once occupied Cuzco and who 
later found a retreat in the canyons below here. 

When we first visited Salapunco no megalithic re- 
mains had been reported as far down the valley as 
this. It never occurred to us that, in hunting for the 
remains of such comparatively recent structures as 
the Inca Manco had the force and time to build, we 
were to discover remains of a far more remote past. 
Yet we were soon to find ruins enough to explain why 
such a fortress as Salapunco might possibly have 
been built so as to defend Uilcapampa against 
Ollantaytambo and Cuzco and not those well- 


known Inca cities against the savages of the Ama- 
zon jungles. 

Passing Salapunco, we skirted granite cliffs and 
precipices and entered a most interesting region, 
where we were surprised and charmed by the extent 
of the ancient terraces, their length and height, the 
presence of many Inca ruins, the beauty of the deep, 
narrow valleys, and the grandeur of the snow-clad 
mountains which towered above them. Across the 
river, near Qquente, on top of a series of terraces, we 
saw the extensive ruins of Patallacta {pata = height 
or terrace; llacta = town or city), an Inca town 
of great importance. It was not known to Rai- 
mondi or Paz Soldan, but is indicated on Wiener's 
map, although he does not appear to have visited it. 
We have been unable to find any reference to it 
in the chronicles. We spent several months here in 
1 91 5 excavating and determining the character of 
the ruins. In another volume I hope to tell more 
of the antiquities of this region. At present it must 
suffice to remark that our explorations near Pata- 
llacta disclosed no "white rock over a spring of 
water." None of the place names in this vicinity fit 
in with the accounts of Uiticos. Their identity re- 
mains a puzzle, although the symmetry of the build- 
ings, their architectural idiosyncrasies such as niches, 
stone roof-pegs, bar-holds, and eye-bonders, indicate 
an Inca origin. At what date these towns and vil- 
lages flourished, who built them, why they were de- 
serted, we do not yet know ; and the Indians who live 
hereabouts are ignorant, or silent, as to their history. 

At Torontoy, the end of the cultivated temperate 


valley, we found another group of interesting ruins, 
possibly once the residence of an Inca chief. In a 
cave near by we secured some mummies. The an- 
cient wrappings had been consumed by the natives 
in an effort to smoke out the vampire bats that 
lived in the cave. On the opposite side of the river 
are extensive terraces and above them, on a hilltop, 
other ruins first visited by Messrs. Tucker and 
Hendriksen in 191 1. One of their Indian bearers, 
attempting to ford the rapids here with a large sur- 
veying instrument, was carried off his feet, swept 
away by the strong current, and drowned before 
help could reach him. 

Near Torontoy is a densely wooded valley called 
the Pampa Ccahua. In 191 5 rumors of Andean or 
"spectacled" bears having been seen here and of 
damage having been done by them to some of the 
higher crops, led us to go and investigate. We found 
no bears, but at an elevation of 12,000 feet were 
some very old trees, heavily covered with flowering 
moss not hitherto known to science. Above them 
I was so fortunate as to find a wild potato plant, the 
source from which the early Peruvians first devel- 
oped many varieties of what we incorrectly call the 
Irish potato. The tubers were as large as peas. 

Mr. Heller found here a strange little cousin of 
the kangaroo, a near relative of the coenolestes. It 
turned out to be new to science. To find a new 
genus of mammalian quadrupeds was an event 
which delighted Mr. Heller far more than shooting 
a dozen bears. ^ 

^ On the 191S Expedition Mr. Heller captured twelve new species 


Torontoy is at the beginning of the Grand Canyon 
of the Urubamba, and such a canyon! The river 
"road" runs recklessly up and down rock stairways, 
blasts its way beneath overhanging precipices, 
spans chasms on frail bridges propped on rustic 
brackets against granite cliffs. Under dense forests, 
wherever the encroaching precipices permitted it, 
the land between them and the river was once ter- 
raced and cultivated. We found ourselves unexpect- 
edly in a veritable wonderland. Emotions came thick 
and fast. We marveled at the exquisite pains with 
which the ancient folk had rescued incredibly nar- 
row strips of arable land from the tumbling rapids. 
How could they ever have managed to build a re- 
taining wall of heavy stones along the very edge of 
the dangerous river, which it is death to attempt to 
cross ! On one sightly bend near a foaming waterfall 
some Inca chief built a temple, whose walls tantalize 
the traveler. He must pass by within pistol shot of 
the interesting ruins, unable to ford the intervening 
rapids. High up on the side of the canyon, five 
thousand feet above this temple, are the ruins of 
Corihuayrachina {kori = "gold " ; huayara = " wind " ; 
huayrachina ="a threshing-floor where winnowing 
takes place." Possibly this was an ancient gold 
mine of the Incas. Half a mile above us on another 
steep slope, some modern pioneer had recently 
cleared the jungle from a fine series of ancient arti- 
ficial terraces. 

of mammals, but, as Mr. Oldfield Thomas says: "Of all the novelties, 
by far the most interesting is the new Marsupial. . . . Members of 
the family were previously known from Colombia and Ecuador," 
Mr. Heller's discovery greatly extends the recent range of the 
kangaroo family. 


On the afternoon of July 23d we reached a hut 
called ''La Maquina,'" where travelers frequently 
stop for the night. The name comes from the pres- 
ence here of some large iron wheels, parts of a 
"machine" destined never to overcome the diffi- 
culties of being transported all the way to a sugar 
estate in the lower valley, and years ago left here to 
rust in the jungle. There was little fodder, and 
there was no good place for us to pitch our camp, 
so we pushed on over the very difficult road, which 
had been carved out of the face of a great granite 
cliff. Part of the cliff had slid off into the river and 
the breach thus made in the road had been repaired 
by means of a frail-looking rustic bridge built on 
a bracket composed of rough logs, branches, and 
reeds, tied together and surmounted by a few inches 
of earth and pebbles to make it seem sufficiently 
safe to the cautious cargo mules who picked their 
way gingerly across it. No wonder "the machine" 
rested where it did and gave its name to that part 
of the valley. 

Dusk falls early in this deep canyon, the sides of 
which are considerably over a mile in height. It was 
almost dark when we passed a little sandy plain two 
or three acres in extent, which in this land of steep 
mountains is called a pampa. Were the dwellers on 
the pampas of Argentina — where a railroad can go 
for 250 miles in a straight line, except for the curva- 
ture of the earth — to see this little bit of flood-plain 
called Mandor Pampa, they would think some one 
had been joking or else grossly misusing a word 
which means to them illimitable space with not a 



hill in sight. However, to the ancient dwellers in 
this valley, where level land was so scarce that it 
was worth while to build high stone-faced terraces 
so as to enable two rows of corn to grow where none 
grew before, any little natural breathing space in 
the bottom of the canyon is called a pampa. 

We passed an ill-kept, grass-thatched hut, turned 
off the road through a tiny clearing, and made 
our camp at the edge of the river Urubamba on a 
sandy beach. Opposite us, beyond the huge granite 
boulders which interfered with the progress of the 
surging stream, was a steep mountain clothed with 
thick jungle. It was an ideal spot for a camp, near 
the road and yet secluded. Our actions, however, 
aroused the suspicions of the owner of the hut, 
Melchor Arteaga, who leases the lands of Mandor 
Pampa. He was anxious to know why we did not 
stay at his hut like respectable travelers. Our gen- 
darme, Sergeant Carrasco, reassured him. They had 
quite a long conversation. When Arteaga learned 
that we were interested in the architectural remains 
of the Incas, he said there were some very good 
ruins in this vicinity — in fact, some excellent ones 
on top of the opposite mountain, called Huayna 
Picchu, and also on a ridge called Machu Picchu. 
These were the very places Charles Wiener heard of 
at Ollantaytambo in 1875 and had been unatfe to 
reach. The story of my experiences on the following 
day will be found in a later chapter. Suffice it to say 
at this point that the ruins of Huayna Picchu 
turned out to be of very little importance, while 
those of Machu Picchu, familiar to readers of the 


"National Geographic Magazine," are as interesting 
as any ever found in the Andes. 

When I first saw the remarkable citadel of Machu 
Picchu perched on a narrow ridge two thousand feet 
above the river, I wondered if it could be the place 
to which that old soldier, Baltasar de Ocampo, a 
member of Captain Garcia's expedition, was re- 
ferring when he said: "The Inca Tupac Amaru was 
there in the fortress of Pitcos [Uiticos], which is on a 
very high mountain, whence the view commanded 
a great part of the province of Uilcapampa. Here 
there was an extensive level space, with very 
sumptuous and majestic buildings, erected with 
great skill and art, all the lintels of the doors, the 
principal as well as the ordinary ones, being of 
marble, elaborately carved." Could it be that 
" Picchu" was the modern variant of "Pitcos"? To 
be sure, the white granite of which the temples and 
palaces of Machu Picchu are constructed might 
easily pass for marble. The difficulty about fitting 
Ocampo's description to Machu Picchu, however, 
was that there was no difference between the lintels 
of the doors and the walls themselves. Furthermore, 
there is no "white rock over a spring of water" 
which Calancha says was "near Uiticos." There is 
no Pucyura in this neighborhood. In fact, the can- 
yon of the Urubamba does not satisfy the geographi- 
cal requirements of Uiticos. Although containing 
ruins of surpassing interest, Machu Picchu did not 
represent that last Inca capital for which we were 
^searching. We had not yet found Manco's palace. 



MACHU PICCHU is on the border-line be- 
tween the temperate zone and the tropics. 
Camping near the bridge of San Miguel, below the 
ruins, both Mr. Heller and Mr. Cook found inter- 
esting evidences of this fact in the flora and fauna. 
From the point of view of historical geography, Mr. 
Cook's most important discovery was the presence 
here of huilca, a tree which does not grow in cold 
climates. The Quichua dictionaries tell us huilca is a 
"medicine, a purgative." An infusion made from 
the seeds of the tree is used as an enema. I am in- 
debted to Mr. Cook for calling my attention to two 
articles by Mr. W. E. Safi'ord in which it is also 
shown that from seeds of the huilca a powder is 
prepared, sometimes called cohoha. This powder, 
says Mr. Safford, is a narcotic snuff "inhaled 
through the nostrils by means of a bifurcated tube." 
**A11 writers unite in declaring that it induced a 
kind of intoxication or hypnotic state, accompanied 
by visions which were regarded by the natives as 
supernatural. While under its influence the necro- 
mancers, or priests, were supposed to hold communi- 
cation with unseen powers, and their incoherent 
mutterings were regarded as prophecies or revela- 
tions of hidden things. In treating the sick the 
physicians made use of it to discover the cause of 
the malady or the person or spirit by whom the 


patient was bewitched." Mr. Safford quotes Las 
Casas as saying: "It was an interesting spectacle to 
witness how they took it and what they spake. The 
chief began the ceremony and while he was engaged 
all remained silent. . . . When he had snuffed up the 
powder through his nostrils, he remained silent for a 
while with his head inclined to one side and his 
arms placed on his knees. Then he raised his face 
heavenward, uttering certain words which must 
have been his prayer to the true God, or to him 
whom he held as God; after which all responded, 
almost as we do when we say amen; and this they 
did with a loud voice or sound. Then they gave 
thanks and said to him certain complimentary 
things, entreating his benevolence and begging him 
to reveal to them what he had seen. He described 
to them his vision, saying that the Cemi [spirits] 
had spoken to him and had predicted good times or 
the contrary, or that children were to be born, or to 
die, or that there was to be some dispute with their 
neighbors, and other things which might come to his 
imagination, all disturbed with that intoxication." ^ 
Clearly, from the point of view of priests and 
soothsayers, the place where huilca was first found 
and used in their incantations would be important. 
It is not strange to find therefore that the Inca name 
of this river was Uilca-mayu: the "huilca river." 

1 Mr. Safford says in his article on the "Identity of Cohoba" 
(Journal of the Washington Academy of Sciences, Sept. 19, 1916): 
"The most remarkable fact connected with Piptadenia peregrina, or 
'tree-tobacco' is that . . . the source of its intoxicating properties still 
remains unknown." One of the bifurcated tubes, " in the first stages 
of manufacture," was found at Machu Picchu. 


The pampa on this river where the trees grew would 
likely receive the name Uilca pampa. If it became 
an important city, then the surrounding region 
might be named Uilcapampa after it. This seems 
to me to be the most probable origin of the name of 
the province. Anyhow it is worth noting the fact 
that denizens of Cuzco and Ollantaytambo, coming 
down the river in search of this highly prized nar- 
cotic, must have found the first trees not far from 
Machu Picchu. 

Leaving the ruins of Machu Picchu for later 
investigation, we now pushed on down the Uru- 
bamba Valley, crossed the bridge of San Miguel, 
passed the house of Seiior Lizarraga, first of modern 
Peruvians to write his name on the granite walls of 
Machu Picchu, and came to the sugar-cane fields 
of Huadquina. We had now left the temperate zone 
and entered the tropics. 

At Huadquiiia we were so fortunate as to find 
that the proprietress of the plantation, Sefiora Car- 
men Vargas, and her children, were spending the 
season here. During the rainy winter months they 
live in Cuzco, but when summer brings fine weather 
they come to Huadquifla to enjoy the free-and-easy 
life of the country. They made us welcome, not only 
with that hospitality to passing travelers which is 
common to sugar estates all over the world, but 
gave us real assistance in our explorations. Senora 
Carmen's estate covers more than two hundred 
square miles. Huadquiiia is a splendid example of 
the ancient patriarchal system. The Indians who 
come from other parts of Peru to work on the plan- 


tation enjoy perquisites and wages unknown else- 
where. Those whose home is on the estate regard 
Senora Carmen with an affectionate reverence 
which she well deserves. All are welcome to bring 
her their troubles. The system goes back to the 
days when the spiritual, moral, and material welfare 
of the Indians was entrusted in encomienda to the 
lords of the repartimiento or allotted territory. 

Huadquina once belonged to the Jesuits. They 
planted the first sugar cane and established the mill. 
After their expulsion from the Spanish colonies at 
the end of the eighteenth century, Huadquina was 
bought by a Peruvian. It was first described in geo- 
graphical literature by the Count de Sartiges, who 
stayed here for several weeks in 1834 when on his 
way to Choqquequirau. He says that the owner of 
Huadquiiia "is perhaps the only landed proprietor 
in the entire world who possesses on his estates all 
the products of the four parts of the globe. In the 
different regions of his domain he has wool, hides, 
horsehair, potatoes, wheat, corn, sugar, coffee, choc- 
olate, coca, many mines of silver-bearing lead, and 
placers of gold." Truly a royal principality. 

Incidentally it is interesting to note that although 
Sartiges was an enthusiastic explorer, eager to visit 
undescribed Inca ruins, he makes no mention what- 
ever of Machu Picchu. Yet from Huadquina one 
can reach Machu Picchu on foot in half a day with- 
out crossing the Urubamba River. Apparently the 
ruins were unknown to his hosts in 1834. They were 
equally unknown to our kind hosts in 191 1. They 
scarcely believed the story I told them of the beauty 


and extent of the Inca edifices.^ When m y pho to- 
graghs were dpvp^op ed, howeyer^an d they saw wi th 
their own eyes the marvelous stonework of the prin- 
cipal temples, Sefiora Carmen and her family were 
struck dumb with wonder and astonishment. They 
could not understand how it was possible that they 
should have passed so close to Machu Picchu every 
year of their lives since the river road was opened 
without knowing what was there. They had seen 
a single little building on the crest of the ridge, but 
supposed that it was an isolated tower of no great 
interest or importance. Their neighbor, Lizarraga, 
near the bridge of San Miguel, had reported the 
presence of the ruins which he first visited in 1904, 
but, like our friends in Cuzco, they had paid little 
attention to his stories. We were soon to have a 
demonstration of the causes of such skepticism. 

Our new friends read with interest my copy of 
those paragraphs of Calancha's "Chronicle" which 
referred to the location of the last Inca capital. 
Learning that we were anxious to discover Uiticos, 
a place of which they had never heard, they ordered 
the most intelligent tenants on the estate to come in 
and be questioned. The best informed of all was a 
sturdy mestizo, a trusted foreman, who said that in 
a little valley called Ccllumayu, a few hours' jour- 
ney down the Urubamba, there were "important 
ruins" which had been seen by some of Sefiora 
Carmen's Indians. Even more interesting and thrill- 
ing was his statement that on a ridge up the Sal- 
cantay Valley was a place called Yurak Rumi 

» See the illustrations in Chapters XVII and XVIII. 


{yurak = "white"; rumi = "stone") where some 
very interesting ruins had been found by his work- 
men when cutting trees for firewood. We all became 
excited over this, for among the paragraphs which I 
had copied from Calancha's "Chronicle" was the 
statement that "close to Uiticos" is the "white 
stone of the aforesaid house of the Sun which is 
called Yurak Rumi." Our hosts assured us that this 
must be the place, since no one hereabouts had ever 
heard of any other Yurak Rumi. The foreman, on 
being closely questioned, said that he had seen the 
ruins once or twice, that he had also been up the 
Urubamba Valley and seen the great ruins at Ollan- 
taytambo, and that those which he had seen at 
Yurak Rumi were "as good as those at Ollantay- 
tambo." Here was a definite statement made by an 
eyewitness. Apparently we were about to see that 
interesting rock where the last Incas worshiped. 
However, the foreman said that the trail thither 
was at present impassable, although a small gang of 
Indians could open it in less than a week. Our hosts, 
excited by the pictures we had shown them of 
Machu Picchu, and now believing that even finer 
ruins might be found on their own property, im- 
mediately gave orders to have the path to Yurak 
Rumi cleared for our benefit. 

While this was being done, Sefiora Carmen's son, 
the manager of the plantation, offered to accompany 
us himself to Ccllumayu, where other "important 
ruins" had been found, which could be reached in a 
few hours without cutting any new trails. Acting 
on his assurance that we should not need tent or 


cots, we left our camping outfit behind and followed 
him to a small valley on the south side of the Uru- 
bamba. We found Ccllumayu to consist of two huts 
in a small clearing. Densely wooded slopes rose on all 
sides. The manager requested two of the Indian 
tenants to act as guides. With them, we plunged 
into the thick jungle and spent a long and fatigu- 
ing day searching in vain for ruins. That night 
the manager returned to Huadquiiia, but Professor 
Foote and I preferred to remain in Ccllumayu and 
prosecute a more vigorous search on the next day. 
We shared a little thatched hut with our Indian 
hosts and a score of fat cuys (guinea pigs), the 
chief source of the Ccllumayu meat supply. The hut 
was built of rough wattles which admitted plenty 
of fresh air and gave us comfortable ventilation. 
Primitive little sleeping-platforms, also of wattles, 
constructed for the needs of short, stocky Indians, 
kept us from being overrun by inquisitive cuys, but 
could hardly be called as comfortable as our own 
folding cots which we had left at Huadquiiia. 

The next day our guides were able to point out in 
the woods a few piles of stones, the foundations of 
oval or circular huts which probably were built by 
some primitive savage tribe in prehistoric times. 
Nothing further could be found here of ruins, "im- 
portant" or otherwise, although we spent three days 
at Ccllumayu. Such was our first disillusionment. 

On our return to Huadquina, we learned that the 
trail to Yurak Rumi would be ready "in a day or 
two." In the meantime our hosts became much 
interested in Professor Foote's collection of insects. 


They brought an unnamed scorpion and informed 
us that an orange orchard surrounded by high walls 
in a secluded place back of the house was "a great 
place for spiders." We found that their statement 
was not exaggerated and immediately engaged in 
an enthusiastic spider hunt. When these Huad- 
quiiia spiders were studied at the Harvard Museum 
of Comparative Zoology, Dr. Chamberlain found 
among them the representatives of four new genera 
and nineteen species hitherto unknown to science. 
As a reward of merit, he gave Professor Foote's 
name to the scorpion ! 

Finally the trail to Yurak Rumi was reported 
finished. It was with feelings of keen anticipation 
that I started out with the foreman to see those 
ruins which he had just revisited and now declared 
were "better than those of Ollantaytambo." It 
was to be presumed that in the pride of discovery he 
might have exaggerated their importance. Still it 
never entered my head what I was actually to find. 
After several hours spent in clearing away the dense 
forest growth which surrounded the walls I learned 
that this Yurak Rumi consisted of the ruins of a 
single little rectangular Inca storehouse. No effort 
had been made at beauty of construction. The walls 
were of rough, unfashioned stones laid in clay. The 
building was without a doorway, although it had 
several small windows and a series of ventilating 
shafts under the house. The lintels of the windows 
and of the small apertures leading into the sub- 
terranean shafts were of stone. There were no 
windows on the sunny north side or on the ends, 



but there were four on the south side through which 
it would have been possible to secure access to the 
stores of maize, potatoes, or other provisions placed 
here for safe-keeping. It will be recalled that the 





Ruins of YuRAK RUMtnear Huadquina. Probably an 
Inca Storehouse, well ventilated and well drained. Drawn 
by A H.Bumstead from measurements and photographs 
by Hiram Bingham and H.W.Foote. 

Incas maintained an extensive system of public 
storehouses, not only in the centers of population, 
but also at strategic points on the principal trails. 
Yurak Rumi is on top of the ridge between the 
Salcantay and Huadquina valleys, probably on an 
ancient road which crossed the province of Uilca- 
pampa. As such it was interesting; but to compare 
it with Ollantaytambo, as the foreman had done, 


was to liken a cottage to a palace or a mouse to an 
elephant. It seems incredible that anybody having 
actually seen both places could have thought for 
a moment that one was "as good as the other." 
To be sure, the foreman was not a trained observer 
and his interest in Inca buildings was probably of 
the slightest. Yet the ruins of Ollantaytambo are 
so well known and so impressive that even the most 
casual traveler is struck by them and the natives 
themselves are enormously proud of them. The real 
cause of the foreman's inaccuracy was probably his 
desire to please. To give an answer which will 
satisfy the questioner is a common trait in Peru as 
well as in many other parts of the world. Anyhow, 
the lessons of the past few days were not lost on us. 
We now understood the skepticism which had pre- 
vailed regarding Lizarraga's discoveries. It is small 
wonder that the occasional stories about Machu 
Picchu which had drifted into Cuzco had never 
elicited any enthusiasm nor even provoked investiga- 
tion on the part of those professors and students in 
the University of Cuzco who were interested in visit- 
ing the remains of Inca civilization. They knew only 
too well the fondness of their countrymen for exag- 
geration and their inability to report facts accu- 

Obviously, we had not yet found Uiticos. So, bid- 
ding farewell to Seiiora Carmen, we crossed the 
Urubamba on the bridge of Colpani and proceeded 
down the valley past the mouth of the Lucumayo 
and the road from Panticalla, to the hamlet of 
Chauillay, where the Urubamba is joined by the 


Vilcabamba River. ^ Both rivers are restricted here 
to narrow gorges, through which their waters rush 
and roar on their way to the lower valley. A few 
rods from Chauillay was a fine bridge. The natives 
call it Chuquichaca ! Steel and iron have superseded 
the old suspension bridge of huge cables made of 
vegetable fiber, with its narrow roadway of wattles 
supported by a network of vines. Yet here it was 
that in 1572 the military force sent by the viceroy, 
Francisco de Toledo, under the command of General 
Martin Hurtado and Captain Garcia, found the 
forces of the young Inca drawn up to defend Uiti- 
cos. It will be remembered that after a brief pre- 
liminary fire the forces of Tupac Amaru were routed 
without having destroyed the bridge and thus Cap- 
tain Garcia was enabled to accomplish that which 
had proved too much for the famous Gonzalo Pi- 
zarro. Our inspection of the surroundings showed 
that Captain Garcia's companion, Baltasar de 
Ocampo, was correct when he said that the occu- 
pation of the bridge of Chuquichaca "was a measure 
of no small importance for the royal force." It 
certainly would have caused the Spaniards "great 
trouble" if they had had to rebuild it. 

We might now have proceeded to follow Garcia's 
tracks up the Vilcabamba had we not been anxious 
to see the proprietor of the plantation of Santa Ana, 

* Since the historical Uilcapampa is not geographically identical 
with the modern Vilcabamba, the name applied to this river and the 
old Spanish town at its source, I shall distinguish between the two 
by using the correct, official spelling for the river and town, viz., 
Vilcabamba; and the phonetic spelling, Uilcapampa, for the place 
referred to in the contemporary histories of the Inca Manco. 


Don Pedro Duque, reputed to be the wisest and 
ablest man in this whole province. We felt he would 
be able to offer us advice of prime importance in our 
search. So leaving the bridge of Chuquichaca, we 
continued down the Urubamba River which here 
meanders through a broad, fertile valley, green with 
tropical plantations. We passed groves of bananas 
and oranges, waving fields of green sugar cane, the 
hospitable dwellings of prosperous planters, and 
the huts of Indians fortunate enough to dwell in 
this tropical "Garden of Eden." The day was hot 
and thirst-provoking, so I stopped near some large 
orange trees loaded with ripe fruit and asked the 
Indian proprietress to sell me ten cents' worth. In 
exchange for the tiny silver real she dragged out 
a sack containing more than fifty oranges! I was 
fain to request her to permit us to take only as many 
as our pockets could hold; but she seemed so sur- 
prised and pained, we had to fill our saddle-bags as 

At the end of the day we crossed the Urubamba 
River on a fine steel bridge and found ourselves in 
the prosperous little town of Quillabamba, the pro- 
vincial capital. Its main street was lined with well- 
filled shops, evidence of the fact that this is one 
of the principal gateways to the Peruvian rubber 
country which, with the high price of rubber then 
prevailing, 191 1, was the scene of unusual activity. 
Passing through Quillabamba and up a slight hill 
beyond it, we came to the long colonnades of the 
celebrated sugar estate of Santa Ana founded by the 
Jesuits, where all explorers who have passed this 


way since the days of Charles Wiener have been 
entertained. He says that he was received here 
"with a thousand signs of friendship" {'^mille te- 
moignages d'amitW). We were received the same 
way. Even in a region where we had repeatedly 
received valuable assistance from government offi- 
cials and generous hospitality from private indi- 
viduals, our reception at Santa Ana stands out as 
particularly delightful. 

Don Pedro Duque took great interest in enabling 
us to get all possible information about the little- 
known region into which we proposed to penetrate. 
Born in Colombia, but long resident in Peru, he was 
a gentleman of the old school, keenly interested, not 
only in the administration and economic progress of 
his plantation, but also in the intellectual movements 
of the outside world. He entered with zest into our 
historical-geographical studies. The name Uiticos 
was new to him, but after reading over with us our 
extracts from the Spanish chronicles he was sure 
that he could help us find it. And help us he did. 
Santa Ana is less than thirteen degrees south of the 
equator; the elevation is barely 2000 feet; the "win- 
ter" nights are cool; but the heat in the middle of 
the day is intense. Nevertheless, our host was so 
energetic that as a result of his efforts a number of 
the best-informed residents were brought to the con- 
ferences at the great plantation house. They told 
all they knew of the towns and valleys where the last 
four Incas had found a refuge, but that was not 
much. They all agreed that "if only Senor Lopez 
Torres were alive he could have been of great 


service" to us, as "he had prospected for mines and 
rubber in those parts more than any one else, and 
had once seen some Inca ruins in the forest!" Of 
Uiticos and Chuquipalpa and most of the places 
mentioned in the chronicles, none of Don Pedro's 
friends had ever heard. It was all rather discourag- 
ing, until one day, by the greatest good fortune, 
there arrived at Santa Ana another friend of Don 
Pedro's, the teniente gobernador of the village of 
Lucma in the valley of Vilcabamba — a crusty old 
fellow named Evaristo Mogrovejo. His brother, Pio 
Mogrovejo, had been a member of the party of 
energetic Peruvians who, in 1884, had searched for 
buried treasure at Choqquequirau and had left 
their names on its walls. Evaristo Mogrovejo could 
understand searching for buried treasure, but he was 
totally unable otherwise to comprehend our desire 
to find the ruins of the places mentioned by Father 
Calancha and the contemporaries of Captain Garcia. 
Had we first met Mogrovejo in Lucma he would 
undoubtedly have received us with suspicion and 
done nothing to further our quest. Fortunately for 
us, his official superior was the sub-prefect of the 
province of Convencion, lived at Quillabamba near 
Santa Ana, and was a friend of Don Pedro's. The 
sub-prefect had received orders from his own official 
superior, the prefect of Cuzco, to take a personal 
interest in our undertaking, and accordingly gave 
particular orders to Mogrovejo to see to it that we 
were given every facility for finding the ancient 
ruins and identifying the places of historic interest. 
Although Mogrovejo declined to risk his skin in the 


savage wilderness of Conservidayoc, he carried out 
his orders faithfully and was ultimately of great 
assistance to us. 

Extremely gratified with the result of our confer- 
ences in Santa Ana, yet reluctant to leave the de- 
lightful hospitality and charming conversation of our 
gracious host, we decided to go at once to Lucma, 
taking the road on the southwest side of the Uru- 
bamba and using the route followed by the pack 
animals which carry the precious cargoes of coca 
and aguardiente from Santa Ana to Ollantaytambo 
and Cuzco. Thanks to Don Pedro's energy, we made 
an excellent start; not one of those meant-to-be- 
early but really late-in-the-morning departures so 
customary in the Andes. 

We passed through a region which originally had 
been heavily forested, had long since been cleared, 
and was now covered with bushes and second 
growth. Near the roadside I noticed a considerable 
number of land shells grouped on the under-side of 
overhanging rocks. As a boy in the Hawaiian Islands 
I had spent too many Saturdays collecting those 
beautiful and fascinating mollusks, which usually 
prefer the trees of upland valleys, to enable me to 
resist the temptation of gathering a large number of 
such as could easily be secured. None of the snails 
were moving. The dry season appears to be their 
resting period. Some weeks later Professor Foote 
and I passed through Maras and were interested to 
notice thousands of land shells, mostly white in 
color, on small bushes, where they seemed to be 
quietly sleeping. They were fairly "glued to their 


resting places"; clustered so closely in some cases as 
to give the stems of the bushes a ghostly appearance. 
Our present objective was the valley of the river 
Vilcabamba. So far as we have been able to learn, 
only one other explorer had preceded us — the 
distinguished scientist Raimondi. His map of the 
Vilcabamba is fairly accurate. He reports the pres- 
ence here of mines and minerals, but with the excep- 
tion of an "abandoned tampu" at Maracnyoc ("the 
place which possesses a millstone"), he makes no 
mention of any ruins. Accordingly, although it 
seemed from the story of Baltasar de Ocampo and 
Captain Garcia's other contemporaries that we were 
now entering the valley of Uiticos, it was with feel- 
ings of considerable uncertainty that we proceeded 
on our quest. It may seem strange that we should 
have been in any doubt. Yet before our visit nearly 
all the Peruvian historians and geographers except 
Don Carlos Romero still believed that when the 
Inca Manco fled from Pizarro he took up his resi- 
dence at Choqquequirau in the Apurimac Valley. 
The word choqquequirau means "cradle of gold" 
and this lent color to the legend that Manco had 
carried off with him from Cuzco great quantities of 
gold utensils and much treasure, which he deposited 
in his new capital. Raimondi, knowing that Manco 
had "retired to Uilcapampa," visited both the 
present villages of Vilcabamba and Pucyura and 
saw nothing of any ruins. He was satisfied that 
Choqquequirau was Manco's refuge because it was 
far enough from Pucyura to answer the requirements 
of Calancha that it was " two or three days' journey " 
from Uilcapampa to Puquiura. 


A new road had recently been built along the 
river bank by the owner of the sugar estate at Pal- 
taybamba, to enable his pack animals to travel more 
rapidly. Much of it had to be carved out of the face 
of a solid rock precipice and in places it pierces the 
cliffs in a series of little tunnels. My gendarme 
missed this road and took the steep old trail over 
the cliffs. As Ocampo said in his story of Captain 
Garcia's expedition, "the road was narrow in the 
ascent with forest on the right, and on the left a 
ravine of great depth." We reached Paltaybamba 
about dusk. The owner, Seiior Jos4 S. Pancorbo, 
was absent, attending to the affairs of a rubber 
estate in the jungles of the river San Miguel. The 
plantation of Paltaybamba occupies the best lands 
in the lower Vilcabamba Valley, but lying, as it does, 
well off the main highway, visitors are rare and our 
arrival was the occasion for considerable excitement. 
We were not unexpected, however. It was Seiior 
Pancorbo who had assured us in Cuzco that we 
should find ruins near Pucyura and he had told his 
major-domo to be on the look-out for us. We had a 
long talk with the manager of the plantation and his 
friends that evening. They had heard little of any 
ruins in this vicinity, but repeated one of the stories 
we had heard in Santa Ana, that way off somewhere 
in the montana there was "an Inca city." All agreed 
that it was a very difficult place to reach ; and none 
of them had ever been there. In the morning the 
manager gave us a guide to the next house up the 
valley, with orders that the man at that house 
should relay us to the next, and so on. These people, 


all tenants of the plantation, obligingly carried out 
their orders, although at considerable inconvenience 
to themselves. 

The Vilcabamba Valley above Paltaybamba is 
very picturesque. There are high mountains on 
either side, covered with dense jungle and dark green 
foliage, in pleasing contrast to the light green of the 
fields of waving sugar cane. The valley is steep, the 
road is very winding, and the torrent of the Vilca- 
bamba roars loudly, even in July. What it must be 
like in February, the rainy season, we could only 
surmise. About two leagues above Paltaybamba, 
at or near the spot called by Raimondi "Marac- 
nyoc," an "abandoned tampu,'' we came to some 
old stone walls, the ruins of a place now called 
Huayara or "Hoyara." I believe them to be the 
ruins of the first Spanish settlement in this region, 
a place referred to by Ocampo, who says that the 
fugitives of Tupac Amaru's army were "brought 
back to the valley of Hoyara," where they were 
"settled in a large village, and a city of Spaniards 
was founded. . . . This city was founded on an 
extensive plain near a river, with an admirable 
climate. From the river channels of water were 
taken for the service of the city, the water being 
very good." The water here is excellent, far better 
than any in the Cuzco Basin. On the plain near the 
river are some of the last cane fields of the planta- 
tion of Paltaybamba. "Hoyara" was abandoned 
after the discovery of gold mines several leagues 
farther up the valley, and the Spanish "city" was 
moved to the village now called Vilcabamba. 


Our next stop was at Lucma, the home of T entente 
Gobernador Mogrovejo. The village of Lucma is an 
irregular cluster of about thirty thatched-roofed 
huts. It enjoys a moderate amount of prosperity 
due to the fact of its being located near one of the 
gateways to the interior, the pass to the rubber 
estates in the San Miguel Valley. Here are "houses 
of refreshment" and two shops, the only ones in the 
region. One can buy cotton cloth, sugar, canned 
goods and candles. A picturesque belfry and a small 
church, old and somewhat out of repair, crown the 
small hill back of the village. There is little level 
land, but the slopes are gentle, and permit a con- 
siderable amount of agriculture. 

There was no evidence of extensive terracing. 
Maize and alfalfa seemed to be the principal crops. 
Evaristo Mogrovejo lived on the little plaza around 
which the houses of the more important people were 
grouped. He had just returned from Santa Ana by 
the way of Idma, using a much worse trail than that 
over which we had come, but one which enabled him 
to avoid passing through Paltaybamba, with whose 
proprietor he was not on good terms. He told us 
stories of misadventures which had happened to 
travelers at the gates of Paltaybamba, stories highly 
reminiscent of feudal days in Europe, when pro- 
vincial barons were accustomed to lay tribute on all 
who passed. 

We offered to pay Mogrovejo a gratificacion of a 
sol, or Peruvian silver dollar, for every ruin to which 
he would take us, and double that amount if the 
locality should prove to contain particularly inter- 


esting ruins. This aroused all his business instincts. 
He summoned his alcaldes and other well-informed 
Indians to appear and be interviewed. They told 
us there were "many ruins" hereabouts! Being a 
practical man himself, Mogrovejo had never taken 
any interest in ruins. Now he saw the chance not 
only to make money out of the ancient sites, but 
also to gain official favor by carrying out with un- 
exampled vigor the orders of his superior, the sub- 
prefect of Quillabamba. So he exerted himself to the 
utmost in our behalf. 

The next day we were guided up a ravine to the 
top of the ridge back of Lucma. This ridge divides 
the upper from the lower Vilcabamba. On all sides 
the hills rose several thousand feet above us. In 
places they were covered with forest growth, chiefly 
above the cloud line, where daily moisture encour- 
ages vegetation. In some of the forests on the more 
gentle slopes recent clearings gave evidence of en- 
terprise on the part of the present inhabitants of 
the valley. After an hour's climb we reached what 
were unquestionably the ruins of Inca structures, 
on an artificial terrace which commands a magnifi- 
cent view far down toward Paltaybamba and the 
bridge of Chuquichaca, as well as in the opposite 
direction. The contemporaries of Captain Garcia 
speak of a number of forts or piicards which had 
to be stormed and captured before Tupac Amaru 
could be taken prisoner. This was probably one of 
those "fortresses." Its strategic position and the 
ease with which it could be defended point to such 
an interpretation. Nevertheless this ruin did not fit 


the "fortress of Pitcos," nor the "House of the Sun " 
near the "white rock over the spring." It is called 
Incahuaracana, "the place where the Inca shoots 
with a sling." 

Incahuaracana consists of two typical Inca edi- 
fices — one of two rooms, about 70 by 20 feet, and 
the other, very long and narrow, 150 by 11 feet. 
The walls, of unhewn stone laid in clay, were not 
particularly well built and resemble in many re- 
spects the ruins at Choqquequirau. The rooms of 
the principal house are without windows, although 
each has three front doors and is lined with niches, 
four or five on a side. The long, narrow building was 
divided into three rooms, and had several front 
doors. A force of two hundred Indian soldiers could 
have slept in these houses without unusual crowding. 

We left Lucma the next day, forded the Vilca- 
bamba River and soon had an uninterrupted view 
up the valley to a high, truncated hill, its top partly 
covered with a scrubby growth of trees and bushes, 
its sides steep and rocky. We were told that the 
name of the hill was "Rosaspata," a word of mod- 
ern hybrid origin — pata being Quichua for "hill," 
while rosas is the Spanish word for "roses." Mo- 
grovejo said his Indians told him that on the "Hill 
of Roses" there were more ruins. 

At the foot of the hill, and across the river, Is the 
village of Pucyura. When Raimondi was here in 
1865 it was but a "wretched hamlet with a paltry 
chapel." To-day it is more prosperous. There is a 
large public school here, to which children come from 
villages many miles away. So crowded is the school 


that in fine weather the children sit on benches out 
of doors. The boys all go barefooted. The girls wear 
high boots. I once saw them reciting a geography 
lesson, but I doubt if even the teacher knew whether 
or not this was the site of the first school in this 
whole region. For it was to "Puquiura" that Friar 
Marcos came in 1566. Perhaps he built the ''mez- 
guina capilla'' which Raimondi scorned. If this were 
the " Puquiura" of Friar Marcos, then Uiticos must 
be near by, for he and Friar Diego walked with 
their famous procession of converts from * ' Puqui- 
ura" to the House of the Sun and the "white rock" 
which was "close to Uiticos." 

Crossing the Vilcabamba on a footbridge that 
afternoon, we came immediately upon some old 
ruins that were not Incaic. Examination showed 
that they were apparently the remains of a very 
crude Spanish crushing mill, obviously intended 
to pulverize gold-bearing quartz on a considerable 
scale. Perhaps this was the place referred to by 
Ocampo, who says that the Inca Titu Cusi attended 
masses said by his friend Friar Diego in a chapel 
which is "near my houses and on my own lands, in 
the mining district of Puquiura, close to the ore- 
crushing mill of Don Christoval de Albornoz, Pre- 
centor that was of the Cuzco Cathedral." 

One of the millstones is five feet in diameter and 
more than a foot thick. It lay near a huge, flat rock 
of white granite, hollowed out so as to enable the 
millstone to be rolled slowly around in a hollow 
trough. There was also a very large Indian mortar 
and pestle, heavy enough to need the services of 


four men to work it. The mortar was merely the 
hollowed-out top of a large boulder which projected 
a few inches above the surface of the ground. The 
pestle, four feet in diameter, was of the character- 
istic rocking-stone shape used from time immemo- 
rial by the Indians of the highlands for crushing 
maize or potatoes. Since no other ruins of a Span- 
ish quartz-crushing plant have been found in this 
vicinity, it is probable that this once belonged to 
Don Christoval de Albornoz. 

Near the mill the Tincochaca River joins the Vil- 
cabamba from the southeast. Crossing this on a 
footbridge, I followed Mogrovejo to an old and very 
dilapidated structure in the saddle of the hill on 
the south side of Rosaspata. They called the place 
Uncapampa, or Inca pampa. It is probably one of 
the forts stormed by Captain Garcia and his men in 
1 57 1. The ruins represent a single house, 166 feet 
long by 33 feet wide. If the house had partitions 
they long since disappeared. There were six door- 
ways in front, none on the ends or in the rear walls. 
The ruins resembled those of Incahuaracana, near 
Lucma. The walls had originally been built of rough 
stones laid in clay. The general finish was extremely 
rough. The few niches, all at one end of the struc- 
ture, were irregular, about two feet in width and a 
little more than this in height. The one corner of 
the building which was still standing had a height 
of about ten feet. Two hundred Inca soldiers could 
have slept here also. 

Leaving Uncapampa and following my guides, I 
climbed up the ridge and followed a path along 


its west side to the top of Rosaspata. Passing some 
ruins much overgrown and of a primitive character, 
I soon found myself on a pleasant pampa near the 
top of the mountain. The view from here com- 
mands "a great part of the province of Uilca- 
pampa." It is remarkably extensive on all sides; to 
the north and south are snow-capped mountains, 
to the east and west, deep verdure-clad valleys. 

Furthermore, on the north side of the pampa is an 
extensive level space with a very sumptuous and 
majestic building "erected with great skill and art, 
all the lintels of the doors, the principal as well as 
the ordinary ones," being of white granite elabo- 
rately cut. At last we had found a place which 
seemed to meet most of the requirements of Ocam- 
po's description of the "fortress of Pitcos." To be 
sure it was not of "marble," and the lintels of the 
doors were not "carved," in our sense of the word. 
They were, however, beautifully finished, as may be 
seen from the illustrations, and the white granite 
might easily pass for marble. If only we could find 
in this vicinity that Temple of the Sun which 
Calancha said was "near" Uiticos, all doubts would 
be at an end. 

That night we stayed at Tincochaca, in the hut of 
an Indian friend of Mogrovejo. As usual we made 
inquiries. Imagine our feelings when in response to 
the oft-repeated question he said that in a neighbor- 
ing valley there was a great white rock over a spring 
of water! If his story should prove to be true our 
quest for Uiticos was over. It behooved us to make 
a very careful study of what we had found. 



WHEN the viceroy, Toledo, determined to con- 
quer that last stronghold of the Incas where 
for thirty-five years they had defied the supreme 
power of Spain, he offered a thousand dollars a 
year as a pension to the soldier who would capture 
Tupac Amaru. Captain Garcia earned the pension, 
but failed to receive it; the "manana habit" was 
already strong in the days of Philip II. So the 
doughty captain filed a collection of testimonials 
with Philip's Royal Council of the Indies. Among 
these is his own statement of what happened on the 
campaign against Tupac Amaru. In this he says: 
"and having arrived at the principal fortress, Guay- 
napucara ["the young fortress"], which the Incas 
had fortified, we found it defended by the Prince 
Philipe Quispetutio, a son of the Inca Titu Cusi, 
with his captains and soldiers. It is on a high emi- 
nence surrounded with rugged crags and jungles, 
very dangerous to ascend and almost impregnable. 
Nevertheless, with my aforesaid company of sol- 
diers I went up and gained the fortress, but only 
with the greatest possible labor and danger. Thus 
we gained the province of Uilcapampa." The 
viceroy himself says this important victory was 
due to Captain Garcia's skill and courage in storm- 


ing the heights of Guaynapucara, "on Saint John 
the Baptist's day, in 1572." 

The "Hill of Roses" is indeed "a high eminence 
surrounded with rugged crags." The side of easiest 
approach is protected by a splendid, long wall, built 
so carefully as not to leave a single toe-hold for 
active besiegers. The barracks at Uncapampa could 
have furnished a contingent to make an attack on 
that side very dangerous. The hill is steep on all 
sides, and it would have been extremely easy for a 
small force to have defended it. It was undoubtedly 
"almost impregnable." This was the feature Cap- 
tain Garcia was most likely to remember. 

On the very summit of the hill are the ruins of a 
partly enclosed compound consisting of thirteen 
or fourteen houses arranged so as to form a rough 
square, with one large and several small courtyards. 
The outside dimensions of the compound are about 
160 feet by 145 feet. The builders showed the 
familiar Inca sense of symmetry in arranging the 
houses. Due to the wanton destruction of many 
buildings by the natives in their efforts at treasure- 
hunting, the walls have been so pulled down that 
it is impossible to get the exact dimensions of the 
buildings. In only one of them could we be sure 
that there had been any niches. 

Most interesting of all is the structure which 
caught the attention of Ocampo and remained fixed 
in his memory. Enough remains of this building to 
give a good idea of its former grandeur. It was 
indeed a fit residence for a royal Inca, an exile from 
Cuzco. It is 245 feet by 43 feet. There were no 


windows, but it was lighted by thirty doorways, 
fifteen in front and the same in back. It contained 
ten large rooms, besides three hallways running 
from front to rear. The walls were built rather 
hastily and are not noteworthy, but the principal 
entrances, namely, those leading to each hall, are 
particularly well made; not, to be sure, of "marble" 
as Ocampo said — there is no marble in the prov- 
ince — but of finely cut ashlars of white granite. 
The lintels of the principal doorways, as well as of 
the ordinary ones, are also of solid blocks of white 
granite, the largest being as much as eight feet in 
length. The doorways are better than any other 
ruins in Uilcapampa except those of Machu Picchu, 
thus justifying the mention of them made by 
Ocampo, who lived near here and had time to 
become thoroughly familiar with their appearance. 
Unfortunately, a very small portion of the edifice 
was still standing. Most of the rear doors had been 
filled up with ashlars, in order to make a continuous 
fence. Other walls had been built from the ruins, to 
keep cattle out of the cultivated pampa. Rosaspata 
is at an elevation which places it on the borderland 
between the cold grazing country, with its root 
crops and sublimated pigweeds, and the temperate 
zone where maize flourishes. 

On the south side of the hilltop, opposite the long 
palace, is the ruin of a single structure, 78 feet long 
and 35 feet wide, containing doors on both sides, no 
niches and no evidence of careful workmanship. 
It was probably a barracks for a company of sol- 


The intervening " pampa*' might have been the 
scene of those games of bowls and quoits, which 
were played by the Spanish refugees who fled from 
the wrath of Gonzalo Pizarro and found refuge with 
the Inca Manco. Here may have occurred that 
fatal game when one of the players lost his temper 
and killed his royal host. 

Our excavations in 191 5 yielded a mass of rough 
potsherds, a few Inca whirl-bobs and bronze shawl 
pins, and also a number of iron articles of European 
origin, heavily rusted — horseshoe nails, a buckle, a 
pair of scissors, several bridle or saddle ornaments, 
and three Jew's-harps. My first thought was that 
modern Peruvians must have lived here at one time, 
although the necessity of carrying all water supplies 
up the hill would make this unlikely. Furthermore, 
the presence here of artifacts of European origin 
does not of itself point to such a conclusion. In the 
first place, we know that Manco was accustomed to 
make raids on Spanish travelers between Cuzco and 
Lima. He might very easily have brought back 
with him a Spanish bridle. In the second place the 
musical instruments may have belonged to the 
refugees, who might have enjoyed whiling away 
their exile with melancholy twanging. In the third 
place the retainers of the Inca probably visited the 
Spanish market in Cuzco, where there would have 
been displayed at times a considerable assortment 
of goods of European manufacture. Finally Rodri- 
guez de Figueroa speaks expressly of two pairs of 
scissors he brought as a present to Titu Cusi. That 
no such array of European artifacts has been turned 


up in the excavations of other important sites in the 
province of Uilcapampa would seem to indicate 
that they were abandoned before the Spanish Con- 
quest or else were occupied by natives who had no 
means of accumulating such treasures. 

Thanks to Ocampo's description of the fortress 
which Tupac Amaru was occupying in 1572 there 
is no doubt that this was the palace of the last Inca. 
Was it also the capital of his brothers, Titu Cusi and 
Sayri Tupac, and his father, Manco? It is astonish- 
ing how few details we have by which the Uiticos 
of Manco may be identified. His contemporaries 
are strangely silent. When he left Cuzco and sought 
refuge "in the remote fastnesses of the Andes," 
there was a Spanish soldier, Cieza de Leon, in the 
armies of Pizarro who had a genius for seeing and 
hearing interesting things and writing them down, 
and who tried to interview as many members of 
the royal family as he could ; — Manco had thir- 
teen brothers. Ciezo de Leon says he was much dis- 
appointed not to be able to talk with Manco himself 
and his sons, but they had "retired into the prov- 
inces of Uiticos, which are in the most retired part 
of those regions, beyond the great Cordillera of the 
Andes." ^ The Spanish refugees who died as the 
result of the murder of Manco may not have known 
how to write. Anyhow, so far as we can learn they 
left no accounts from which any one could identify 
his residence. 

^ In those days the term " Andes" appears to have been very lim- 
ited in scope, and was applied only to the high range north of Cuzco 
where lived the tribe called Antis. Their name was given to the range, 
its culminating point was Mt. Salcantay. 


Titu Cusi gives no definite clue, but the activities 
of Friar Marcos and Friar Diego, who came to be 
his spiritual advisers, are fully described by Ca- 
lancha. It will be remembered that Calancha re- 
marks that "close to Uiticos in a village called Chu- 
quipalpa, is a House of the Sun and in it a white 
stone over a spring of water." Our guide had told 
us there was such a place close to the hill of Rosas- 

On the day after making the first studies of the 
"Hill of Roses," I followed the impatient Mogro- 
vejo — whose object was not to study ruins but to 
earn dollars for finding them — and went over the 
hill on its northeast side to the Valley of Los 
Andenes ("the Terraces "). Here, sure enough, was a 
large, white granite boulder, flattened on top, which 
had a carved seat or platform on its northern side. 
Its west side covered a cave in which were several 
niches. This cave had been walled in on one side. 
When Mogrovejo and the Indian guide said there 
was a manantial de agua ("spring of water") near 
by, I became greatly interested. On investigation, 
however, the "spring" turned out to be nothing but 
part of a small irrigating ditch. {Manantial means 
"spring"; it also means "running water"). But 
the rock was not "over the water." Although this 
was undoubtedly one of those huacas, or sacred 
boulders, selected by the Incas as the visible repre- 
sentations of the founders of a tribe and thus was 
an important accessory to ancestor worship, it was 
not the Yurak Rumi for which we were looking. 

Leaving the boulder and the ruins of what pos- 



sibly had been the house of its attendant priest, 
we followed the little water course past a large 
number of very handsomely built agricultural ter- 
races, the first we had seen since leaving Machu 
Picchu and the most important ones in the valley. 
So scarce are andenes in this region and so note- 
worthy were these in particular that this vale has 
been named after them. They were probably built 
under the direction of Manco. Near them are a 
number of carved boulders, huacas. One had an 
intihuatana, or sundial nubbin, on it; another was 
carved in the shape of a saddle. Continuing, we 
followed a trickling stream through thick woods 
until we suddenly arrived at an open place called 
Nusta Isppana. Here before us was a great white 
rock over a spring. Our guides had not misled us. 
Beneath the trees were the ruins of an Inca temple, 
flanking and partly enclosing the gigantic granite 
boulder, one end of which overhung a small pool of 
running water. When we learned that the present 
name of this immediate vicinity is Chuquipalta our 
happiness was complete. 

It was late on the afternoon of August 9, 191 1, 
when I first saw this remarkable shrine. Densely 
wooded hills rose on every side. There was not a 
hut to be seen; scarcely a sound to be heard. It 
was an ideal place for practicing the mystic cere- 
monies of an ancient cult. The remarkable aspect 
of this great boulder and the dark pool beneath 
its shadow had caused this to become a place of 
worship. Here, without doubt, was "the principal 
mochadero of those forested mountains." It is still 


venerated by the Indians of the vicinity. At last 
we had found the place where, in the days of Titu 
Cusi, the Inca priests faced the east, greeted the 
rising sun, "extended their hands toward it," and 
"threw kisses to it," "a ceremony of the most pro- 
found resignation and reverence." We may imag- 
ine the sun priests, clad in their resplendent robes 
of office, standing on the top of the rock at the 
edge of its steepest side, their faces lit up with the 
rosy light of the early morning, awaiting the mo- 
ment when the Great Divinity should appear above 
the eastern hills and receive their adoration. As it 
rose they saluted it and cried: "O Sun! Thou who 
art in peace and safety, shine upon us, keep us from 
sickness, and keep us in health and safety. O Sun! 
Thou who hast said let there be Cuzco and Tampu, 
grant that these children may conquer all other 
people. We beseech thee that thy children the Incas 
may be always conquerors, since it is for this that 
thou hast created them." 

It was during Titu Cusi's reign that Friars Marcos 
and Diego marched over here with their converts 
from Puquiura, each carrying a stick of firewood. 
Calancha says the Indians worshiped the water as 
a divine thing, that the Devil had at times shown 
himself in the water. Since the surface of the little 
pool, as one gazes at it, does not reflect the sky, but 
only the overhanging, dark, mossy rock, the water 
looks black and forbidding, even to unsuperstitious 
Yankees. It is easy to believe that simple-minded 
Indian worshipers in this secluded spot could readily 
believe that they actually saw the Devil appearing 








10 20 30 *0 50 60 70 80 90 lO O 



"as a visible manifestation" in the water. Indians 
came from the most sequestered villages of the 
dense forests to worship here and to offer gifts and 
sacrifices. Nevertheless, the Augustinian monks here 
raised the standard of the cross, recited their orisons, 
and piled firewood all about the rock and temple. 
Exorcising the Devil and calling him by all the vile 
names they could think of, the friars commanded 
him never to return. Setting fire to the pile, they 
burned up the temple, scorched the rock, making a 
powerful impression on the Indians and causing 
the poor Devil to flee, "roaring in a fury." "The 
cruel Devil never more returned to the rock nor 
to this district." Whether the roaring which they 
heard was that of the Devil or of the flames we can 
only conjecture. Whether the conflagration tempo- 
rarily dried up the swamp or interfered with the 
arrangements of the water supply so that the pool 
disappeared for the time being and gave the Devil 
no chance to appear in the water, where he had 
formerly been accustomed to show himself, is also 
a matter for speculation. 

The buildings of the House of the Sun are in a 
very ruinous state, but the rock itself, with its curi- 
ous carvings, is well preserved notwithstanding the 
great conflagration of 1570. Its length is fifty- two 
feet, its width thirty feet, and its height above the 
present level of the water, twenty-five feet. On 
the west side of the rock are seats and large steps or 
platforms. It was customary to kill llamas at these 
holy huacas. On top of the rock is a flattened place 
which may have been used for such sacrifices. From 


it runs a little crack in the boulder, v/hich has been 
artificially enlarged and may have been intended to 
carry off the blood of the victim killed on top of the 
rock. It is still used for occult ceremonies of obscure 
origin which are quietly practiced here by the more 
superstitious Indian women of the valley, possibly 
in memory of the Nusta or Inca princess for whom 
the shrine is named. 

On the south side of the monolith are several large 
platforms and four or five small seats which have 
been cut in the rock. Great care was exercised in 
cutting out the platforms. The edges are very 
nearly square, level, and straight. The east side of 
the rock projects over the spring. Two seats have 
been carved immediately above the water. On the 
north side there are no seats. Near the water, steps 
have been carved. There is one flight of three and 
another of seven steps. Above them the rock has 
been flattened artificially and carved into a very 
bold relief. There are ten projecting square stones, 
like those usually called intihuatana or "places to 
which the sun is tied." In one line are seven; one is 
slightly apart from the six others. The other three 
are arranged in a triangular position above the 
seven. It is significant that these stones are on the 
northeast face of the rock, where they are exposed to 
the rising sun and cause striking shadows at sunrise. 

Our excavations yielded no artifacts whatever 
and only a handful of very rough old potsherds of 
uncertain origin. The running water under the 
rock was clear and appeared to be a spring, but when 
we drained the swamp which adjoins the great rock 




on its northeastern side, we found that the spring 
was a Httle higher up the hill and that the water ran 
through the dark pool. We also found that what 
looked like a stone culvert on the borders of the 
little pool proved to be the top of the back of a row 
of seven or eight very fine stone seats. The platform 
on which the seats rested and the seats themselves 
are parts of three or four large rocks nicely fitted 
together. Some of the seats are under the black 
shadows of the overhanging rock. Since the pool 
was an object of fear and mystery the seats were 
probably used only by priests or sorcerers. It would 
have been a splendid place to practice divination. 
No doubt the devils "roared." 

All our expeditions in the ancient province of 
Uilcapampa have failed to disclose the presence 
of any other "white rock over a spring of water" 
surrounded by the ruins of a possible "House of the 
Sun." Consequently it seems reasonable to adopt 
the following conclusions: First, Nusta Isppana is 
the Yurak Rumi of Father Calancha. The Chuqui- 
palta of to-day is the place to which he refers as 
Chuquipalpa. Second, Uiticos, "close to" this shrine, 
was once the name of the present valley of Vilca- 
bamba between Tincochaca and Lucma. This is the 
"Viticos" of Cieza de Leon, a contemporary of 
Manco, who says that it was to the province of Viti- 
cos that Manco determined to retire when he re- 
belled against Pizarro, and that "having reached 
Viticos with a great quantity of treasure collected 
from various parts, together with his women and 
retinue, the king, Manco Inca, established himself 


in the strongest place he could find, whence he 
sallied forth many times and in many directions 
and disturbed those parts which were quiet, to do 
what harm he could to the Spaniards, whom he con- 
sidered as cruel enemies." Third, the "strongest 
place" of Cieza, the Guaynapucara of Garcia, was 
Rosaspata, referred to by Ocampo as "the fortress 
of Pitcos," where, he says, "there was a level space 
with majestic buildings," the most noteworthy 
feature of which was that they had two kinds of 
doors and both kinds had white stone lintels. Fourth, 
the modern village of Pucyura in the valley of the 
river Vilcabamba is the Puquiura of Father Ca- 
lancha, the site of the first mission church in this 
region, as assumed by Raimondi, although he was 
disappointed in the insignificance of the "wretched 
little village." The remains of the old quartz-crush- 
ing plant in Tincochaca, which has already been 
noted, the distance from the "House of the Sun," 
not too great for the religious procession, and the 
location of Pucyura near the fortress, all point to 
the correctness of this conclusion. 

Finally, Calancha says that Friar Ortiz, after he 
had secured permission from Titu Cusi to establish 
the second missionary station in Uilcapampa, se- 
lected "the town of Huarancalla, which was popu- 
lous and well located in the midst of a number of 
other little towns and villages. There was a distance 
of two or three days' journey from one convent to 
the other. Leaving Friar Marcos in Puquiura, Friar 
Diego went to his new establishment, and in a short 
time built a church." There is no "Huarancalla" 


to-day, nor any tradition of any, but in Mapillo, a 
pleasant valley at an elevation of about 10,000 feet, 
in the temperate zone where the crops with which 
the Incas were familiar might have been raised, 
near pastures where llamas and alpacas could have 
flourished, is a place called Huarancalque, The 
valley is populous and contains a number of little 
towns and villages. Furthermore, Huarancalque is 
two or three days' journey from Pucyura and is 
on the road which the Indians of this region now 
use in going to Ayacucho. This was undoubtedly 
the route used by Manco in his raids on Spanish 
caravans. The Mapillo flows into the Apurimac 
near the mouth of the river Pampas. Not far up 
the Pampas is the important bridge between Bom- 
bon and Ocros, which Mr. Hay and I crossed in 
1909 on our way from Cuzco to Lima. The city of 
Ayacucho was founded by Pizarro, a day's journey 
from this bridge. The necessity for the Spanish cara- 
vans to cross the river Pampas at this point made it 
easy for Manco's foraging expeditions to reach them 
by sudden marches from Uiticos down the Mapillo 
River by way of Huarancalque, which is probably 
the "Huarancalla" of Calancha's "Chronicles." He 
must have had rafts or canoes on which to cross 
the Apurimac, which is here very wide and deep. 
In the valleys between Huarancalque and Lucma, 
Manco was cut ofl^ from central Peru by the Apuri- 
mac and its magnificent canyon, which in many 
places has a depth of over two miles. He was cut off 
from Cuzco by the inhospitable snow fields and 
glaciers of Salcantay, Soray, and the adjacent ridges, 


even though they are only fifty miles from Cuzco. 
Frequently all the passes are completely snow- 
blocked. Fatalities have been known even in recent 
years. In this mountainous province Manco could 
be sure of finding not only security from his Spanish 
enemies, but any climate that he desired and an 
abundance of food for his followers. There seems to 
be no reason to doubt that the retired region around 
the modern town of Pucyura in the upper Vilca- 
bamba Valley was once called Uiticos. 



ALTHOUGH the refuge of Manco is frequently 
spoken of as Uitlcos by the contemporary 
writers, the word Vilcabamba, or Uilcapampa, is 
used even more often. In fact Garcilasso, the chief 
historian of the Incas, himself the son of an Inca 
princess, does not mention Uiticos. Vilcabamba was 
the common name of the province. Father Calan- 
cha says it was a very large area, "covering four- 
teen degrees of longitude," about seven hundred 
miles wide. It included many savage tribes "of the 
far interior" who acknowledged the supremacy of 
the Incas and brought tribute to Manco and his 
sons. "The Manaries and the Pilcosones came a 
hundred and two hundred leagues" to visit the Inca 
in Uiticos. 

The name, Vilcabamba, is also applied repeatedly 
to a town. Titu Cusi says he lived there many years 
during his youth. Calancha says it was "two days' 
journey from Puquiura." Raimondi thought it must 
be Choqquequirau. Captain Garcia's soldiers, how- 
ever, speak of it as being down in the warm valleys 
of the montana, the present rubber country. On the 
other hand the only place which bears this name on 
the maps of Peru is near the source of the Vilca- 
bamba River, not more than three or four leagues 
from Pucyura. We determined to visit it. 


We found the town to lie on the edge of bleak 
upland pastures, 11,750 feet above the sea. Instead 
of Inca walls or ruins Vilcabamba has threescore 
solidly built Spanish houses. At the time of our visit 
they were mostly empty, although their roofs, of 
unusually heavy thatch, seemed to be in good repair. 
We stayed at the house of the gohernador, Manuel 
Condore. The nights were bitterly cold and we 
should have been most uncomfortable in a tent. 

The gohernador said that the reason the town was 
deserted was that most of the people were now 
attending to their chacras, or little farms, and look- 
ing after their herds of sheep and cattle in the neigh- 
boring valleys. He said that only at special festival 
times, such as the annual visit of the priest, who 
celebrates mass in the church here, once a year, are 
the buildings fully occupied. In the latter part of the 
sixteenth century, gold mines were discovered in 
the adjacent mountains and the capital of the Span- 
ish province of Vilcabamba was transferred from 
Hoyara to this place. Its official name. Condor^ 
said, is still San Francisco de la Victoria de Vilca- 
bamba, and as such it occurs on most of the early 
maps of Peru. The solidity of the stone houses was 
due to the prosperity of the gold diggers. The pres- 
ent air of desolation and absence of population is 
probably due to the decay of that industry. 

The church is large. Near it, and slightly apart 
from the building, is a picturesque stone belfry with 
three old Spanish bells. Condor6 said that the 
church was built at least three hundred years ago. 
It is probably the very structure whose construction 



was carefully supervised by Ocampo. In the nego- 
tiations for permission to move the municipaHty of 
San Francisco de la Victoria from Hoyara to the 
neighborhood of the mines, Ocampo, then one of the 
chief settlers, went to Cuzco as agent of the inter- 
ested parties, to take the matter up with the viceroy. 
Ocampo's story is in part as follows: 

"The change of site appeared convenient for the 
service of God our Lord and of his Majesty, and for 
the increase of his royal fifths, as well as beneficial 
to the inhabitants of the said city. Having examined 
the capitulations and reasons, the said Don Luis de 
Velasco [the viceroy] granted the licence to move 
the city to where it is now founded, ordering that it 
should have the title and name of the city of San 
Francisco of the Victory of Uilcapampa, which was 
its first name. By this change of site I, the said 
Baltasar de Ocampo, performed a great service to 
God our Lord and his Majesty. Through my care, 
industry and solicitude, a very good church was 
built, with its principal chapel and great doors." 
We found the walls to be heavy, massive, and well 
buttressed, the doors to be unusually large and the 
whole to show considerable ' * industry and solicitude. ' ' 

The site was called "Onccoy, where the Spaniards 
who first discovered this land found the flocks and 
herds." Modern Vilcabamba is on grassy slopes, 
well suited for flocks and herds. On the steeper 
slopes potatoes are still raised, although the valley 
itself is given up to-day almost entirely to pasture 
lands. We saw horses, cattle, and sheep in abun- 
dance where the Incas must have pastured their 


llamas and alpacas. In the rocky cliffs near by are 
remains of the mines begun in Ocampo's day. There 
is little doubt that this was Onccoy, although that 
name is now no longer used here. 

We met at the gobernador's an old Indian who 
admitted that an Inca had once lived on Rosaspata 
Hill. Of all the scores of persons whom we in- 
terviewed through the courtesy of the intelligent 
planters of the region or through the customary 
assistance of government oflficials, this Indian was 
the only one to make such an admission. Even he 
denied having heard of "Uiticos" or any of its 
variations. If we were indeed in the country of 
Manco and his sons, why should no one be familiar 
with that name? 

Perhaps, after all, it is not surprising. The In- 
dians of the highlands have now for so many genera- 
tions been neglected by their rulers and brutalized 
by being allowed to drink all the alcohol they can 
purchase and to assimilate all the cocaine they can 
secure, through the constant chewing of coca leaves, 
that they have lost much if not all of their racial 
self-respect. It is the educated mestizos of the princi- 
pal modern cities of Peru who, tracing their descent 
not only from the Spanish soldiers of the Conquest, 
but also from the blood of the race which was con- 
quered, take pride in the achievements of the Incas 
and are endeavoring to preserve the remains of the 
wonderful civilization of their native ancestors. 
Until quite recently Vilcabamba was an unknown 
land to most of the Peruvians, even those who live 
in the city of Cuzco. Had the capital of the last four 


Incas been In a region whose climate appealed to 
Europeans, whose natural resources were sufficient 
to support a large population, and whose roads made 
transportation no more difficult than in most parts 
of the Andes, it would have been occupied from the 
days of Captain Garcia to the present by Spanish- 
speaking mestizos, who might have been interested 
in preserving the name of the ancient Inca capital 
and the traditions connected with it. 

After the mines which attracted Ocampo and his 
friends "petered out," or else, with the primitive 
tools of the sixteenth century, ceased to yield ade- 
quate returns, the Spaniards lost interest in that 
remote region. The rude trails which connected 
Pucyura with Cuzco and civilization were at best 
dangerous and difficult. They were veritably im- 
passable during a large part of the year even to 
people accustomed to Andean "roads." 

The possibility of raising sugar cane and coca be- 
tween Huadquina and Santa Ana attracted a few 
Spanish-speaking people to live in the lower Uru- 
bamba Valley, notwithstanding the difficult trans- 
portation over the passes near Mts. Salcantay and 
Veronica; but there was nothing to lead any one 
to visit the upper Vilcabamba Valley or to desire to 
make it a place of residence. And until Seiior Pan- 
corbo opened the road to Lucma, Pucyura was ex- 
tremely difficult of access. Nine generations of In- 
dians lived and died in the province of Uilcapampa 
between the time of Tupac Amaru and the arrival 
of the first modern explorers. The great stone 
buildings constructed on the "Hill of Roses" in the 


days of Manco and his sons were allowed to fall into 
ruin. Their roofs decayed and disappeared. The 
names of those who once lived here were known to 
fewer and fewer of the natives. The Indians them- 
selves had no desire to relate the story of the various 
forts and palaces to their Spanish landlords, nor had 
the latter any interest in hearing such tales. It was 
not until the renaissance of historical and geograph- 
ical curiosity, in the nineteenth century, that it 
occurred to any one to look for Manco's capital. 
When Raimondi, the first scientist to penetrate 
Vilcabamba, reached Pucyura, no one thought to 
tell him that on the hilltop opposite the village once 
lived the last of the Incas and that the ruins of their 
palaces were still there, hidden underneath a thick 
growth of trees and vines. 

A Spanish document of 1598 says the first town 
of "San Francisco de la Victoria de Vilcabamba" 
was in the "valley of Viticos." The town's long 
name became shortened to Vilcabamba. Then the 
.river which flowed past was called the Vilcabamba, 
^^and is so marked on Raimondi's map. Uiticos had 
long since passed from the memory of man. 

Furthermore, the fact that we saw no llamas or 
alpacas in the upland pastures, but only domestic 
animals of European origin, would also seem to 
indicate that for some reason or other this region 
had been abandoned by the Indians themselves. It 
is difficult to believe that if the Indians had in- 
habited these valleys continuously from Inca times 
to the present we should not have found at least a 
few of the indigenous American camels here. By 


itself, such an occurrence would hardly seem worth 
a remark, but taken in connection with the loss of 
traditions regarding Uiticos, it would seem to indi- 
cate that there must have been quite a long period 
of time in which no persons of consequence lived 
in this vicinity. 

We are told by the historians of the colonial period 
that the mining operations of the first Spanish 
settlers were fatal to at least a million Indians. It 
is quite probable that the introduction of ordinary 
European contagious diseases, such as measles, 
chicken pox, and smallpox, may have had a great 
deal to do with the destruction of a large proportion 
of those unfortunates whose untimely deaths were 
attributed by historians to the very cruel practices 
of the early Spanish miners and treasure seekers. 
Both causes undoubtedly contributed to the result. 
There seems to be no question that the population 
diminished enormously in early colonial days. If 
this is true, the remaining population would nat- 
urally have sought regions where the conditions of 
existence and human intercourse were less severe 
and rigorous than in the valleys of Uiticos and 

The students and travelers of the late nineteenth 
and early twentieth centuries, including such a care- 
ful observer as Bandelier, are of the opinion that the 
present-day population in the Andes of Peru and 
Bolivia is about as great as that at the time of the 
Conquest. In other words, with the decay of early 
colonial mining and the consequent disappearance 
of bad living conditions and forced labor at the 


mines, also with the rise of partial immunity to 
European diseases, and the more comfortable condi- 
tions of existence which have followed the coming 
of Peruvian independence, it is reasonable to sup- 
pose that the number of highland Indians has in- 
creased. With this increase has come a consequent 
crowding in certain localities. There would be a 
natural tendency to seek less crowded regions, even 
at the expense of using difficult mountain trails. 
This would lead to their occupying as remote and 
inaccessible a region as the ancient province of 
Uilcapampa. It is probable that after the gold 
mines ceased to pay, and before the demand for 
rubber caused the San Miguel Valley to be appro- 
priated by the white man, there was a period of 
nearly three hundred years when no one of educa- 
tion or of intelligence superior to the ordinary In- 
dian shepherd lived anywhere near Pucyura or 
Lucma. The adobe houses of these modern villages 
look fairly modern. They may have been built in 
the nineteenth century. 

Such a theory would account for the very small 
amount of information prevailing in Peru regarding 
the region where we had been privileged to find so 
many ruins. This ignorance led the Peruvian geog- 
raphers Raimondi and Paz Soldan to conclude that 
Choqquequirau, the only ruins reported between 
the Apurimac and the Urubamba, must have been 
the capital of the Incas who took refuge there. 
1 1 also makes it seem more reasonable that the exist- 
ence of Rosaspata and Nusta Isppana should not 
have been known to Peruvian geographers and 


historians, or even to the government officials who 
Hved in the adjacent villages. 

We felt sure we had found Uiticos ; nevertheless it 
was quite apparent that we had not yet found all 
the places which were called Vilcabamba. Examina- 
tion of the writers of the sixteenth century shows 
that there may have been three places bearing that 
name; one spoken of by Calancha as Vilcabamba 
Viejo ("the old "), another also so called by Ocampo, 
and a third founded by the Spaniards, namely, the 
town we w^ere now in. The story of the first is given 
in Calancha's account of the trials and tribulations 
of Friar Marcos and the martyrdom of Friar Diego 
Ortiz. The chronicler tells with considerable detail 
of their visit to "Vilcabamba Viejo." It was after 
the monks had already founded their religious es- 
tablishment at Puquiura that they learned of the 
existence of this important religious center. They 
urged Titu Cusi to permit them to visit it. For a 
long time he refused. Its whereabouts remained 
unknown to them, but its strategic position as a 
religious stronghold led them to continue their de- 
mands. Finally, either to rid himself of their im- 
portunities or because he imagined the undertaking 
might be made amusing, he yielded to their requests 
and bade them prepare for the journey. Calancha 
says that the Inca himself accompanied the two 
friars, with a number of his captains and chieftains, 
taking them from Puquiura over a very rough and 
rugged road. The Inca, however, did not suffer from 
the character of the trail because, like the Roman 
generals of old, he was borne comfortably along in a 


litter by servants accustomed to this duty. The un- 
fortunate missionaries were obliged to go on foot. 
The wet, rocky trail soon demoralized their foot- 
gear. When they came to a particularly bad place 
in the road, " Ungacacha,'' the trail went for some 
distance through water. The monks were forced to 
wade. The water was very cold. The Inca and his 
chieftains were amused to see how the friars were 
hampered by their monastic garments while passing 
through the water. However, the monks persevered, 
greatly desiring to reach their goal, "on account of 
its being the largest city in which was the Univer- 
sity of Idolatry, where lived the teachers who were 
wizards and masters of abomination." If one may 
judge by the name of the place, Ullcapampa, the 
wizards and sorcerers were probably aided by 
the powerful effects of the ancient snuff made from 
huilca seeds. After a three days' journey over very 
rough country, the monks arrived at their destina- 
tion. Yet even then TItu Cusi was unwilling that 
they should live in the city, but ordered that the 
monks be given a dwelling outside, so that they 
might not witness the ceremonies and ancient rites 
which were practiced by the Inca and his captains 
and priests. 

Nothing Is said about the appearance of "Vilca- 
bamba VIejo" and it is doubtful whether the monks 
were ever allowed to see the city, although they 
reached its vicinity. Here they stayed for three 
weeks and kept up their preaching and teaching. 
During their stay Titu Cusi, who had not wished to 
bring them here, got his revenge by annoying them 


in various ways. He was particularly anxious to 
make them break their vows of celibacy. Calancha 
says that after consultation with his priests and 
soothsayers Titu Cusi selected as tempters the most 
beautiful Indian women, including some individuals 
of the Yungas who were unusually attractive. It is 
possible that these women, who lived at the "Uni- 
versity of Idolatry" in "Vilcabamba Viejo," were 
"Virgins of the Sun," who were under the orders of 
the Inca and his high priests and were selected from 
the fairest daughters of the empire. It is also evi- 
dent that "Vilcabamba Viejo" was so constructed 
that the monks could be kept for three weeks in its 
vicinity without being able to see what was going 
on in the city or to describe the kinds of "abomina- 
tions" which were practiced there, as they did those 
at the white rock of Chuquipalta. As will be shown 
later, it is possible that this Vilcabamba, referred 
to in Calancha's story as "Vilcabamba Viejo," was 
on the slopes of the mountain now called Machu 

In the meantime it was necessary to pursue the 
hunt for the ruins of Vilcabamba called " the old " 
by Ocampo, to distinguish it from the Spanish town 
of that name which he had helped to found after 
the capture of Tupac Amaru, and referred to merely 
as Vilcabamba by Captain Garcia and his com- 
panions in their accounts of the campaign. 



WHEN Don Pedro Duque of Santa Aria was 
helping us to identify places mentioned in 
Calancha and Ocampo, the references to "Vilca- 
bamba Viejo," or Old Uilcapampa, were supposed 
by two of his informants to point to a place called 
Conservidayoc. Don Pedro told us that in 1902 
Lopez Torres, who had traveled much in the mo7i- 
tana looking for rubber trees, reported the discovery 
there of the ruins of an Inca city. All of Don Pedro's 
friends assured us that Conservidayoc was a terri- 
ble place to reach. "No one now living had been 
there." "It was inhabited by savage Indians who 
would not let strangers enter their villages." 

When we reached Paltaybamba, Seiior Pancorbo's 
manager confirmed what we had heard. He said 
further that an individual named Saavedra lived 
at Conservidayoc and undoubtedly knew all about 
the ruins, but was very averse to receiving visitors. 
Saavedra's house was extremely difficult to find. 
"No one had been there recently and returned 
alive." Opinions differed as to how far away it was. 

Several days later, while Professor Foote and I 
were studying the ruins near Rosaspata, Seiior 
Pancorbo, returning from his rubber estate in the 
San Miguel Valley and learning at Lucma of our 
presence near by, took great pains to find us and see 


how we were progressing. When he learned of our 
intention to search for the ruins of Conservidayoc, 
he asked us to desist from the attempt. He said 
Saavedra was "a very powerful man having many 
Indians under his control and living in grand state, 
with fifty servants, and not at all desirous of be- 
ing visited by anybody." The Indians were "of 
the Campa tribe, very wild and extremely savage. 
They use poisoned arrows and are very hostile to 
strangers." Admitting that he had heard there were 
Inca ruins near Saavedra's station, Sefior Pancorbo 
still begged us not to risk our lives by going to look 
for them. 

By this time our curiosity was thoroughly aroused. 
We were familiar with the current stories regarding 
the habits of savage tribes who lived in the montana 
and whose services were in great demand as rubber 
gatherers. We had even heard that Indians did not 
particularly like to work for Seiior Pancorbo, who 
was an energetic, ambitious man, anxious to achieve 
many things, results which required more laborers 
than could easily be obtained. We could readily 
believe there might possibly be Indians at Conservi- 
dayoc who had escaped from the rubber estate of 
San Miguel. Undoubtedly, Senor Pancorbo's own 
life would have been at the mercy of their poisoned 
arrows. All over the Amazon Basin the exigencies 
of rubber gatherers had caused tribes visited with 
impunity by the explorers of the nineteenth century 
to become so savage and revengeful as to lead them 
to kill all white men at sight. 

Professor Foote and I considered the matter in all 


its aspects. We finally came to the conclusion that 
in view of the specific reports regarding the presence 
of Inca ruins at Conservidayoc we could not afford 
to follow the advice of the friendly planter. We 
must at least make an effort to reach them, mean- 
while taking every precaution to avoid arousing the 
enmity of the powerful Saavedra and his savage 

On the day following our arrival at the town of 
Vilcabamba, the gobernador, Condore, taking coun- 
sel with his chief assistant, had summoned the wis- 
est Indians living in the vicinity, including a very 
picturesque old fellow whose name, Quispi Cusi, was 
strongly reminiscent of the days of Titu Cusi. It 
was explained to him that this was a very solemn 
occasion and that an official inquiry was in progress. 
He took off his hat — but not his knitted cap — and 
endeavored to the best of his ability to answer our 
questions about the surrounding country. It was 
he who said that the Inca Tupac Amaru once lived 
at Rosaspata. He had never heard of Uilcapampa 
Viejo, but he admitted that there were ruins in the 
montana near Conservidayoc. Other Indians were 
questioned by Condor6. Several had heard of the 
ruins of Conservidayoc, but, apparently, none of 
them, nor any one in the village, had actually seen 
the ruins or visited their immediate vicinity. 
They all agreed that Saavedra's place was "at least 
four days' hard journey on foot in the montana 
beyond Pampaconas." No village of that name 
appeared on any map of Peru, although it is fre- 
quently mentioned in the documents of the six- 


teenth century. Rodriguez de Figueroa, who came 
to seek an audience with Titu Cusi about 1565, says 
that he met Titu Cusi at a place called Banbaconas. 
He says further that the Inca came there from some- 
where down in the dense forests of the montana and 
presented him with a macaw and two hampers of 
peanuts — products of a warm region. 

We had brought with us the large sheets of Rai- 
mondi's invaluable map which covered this locality. 
We also had the new map of South Peru and North 
Bolivia which had just been published by the Royal 
Geographical Society and gave a summary of all 
available information. The Indians said that Con- 
servidayoc lay in a westerly direction from Vilca- 
bamba, yet on Raimondi's map all of the rivers 
which rise in the mountains west of the town are 
short affluents of the Apurimac and flow southwest. 
We wondered whether the stories about ruins at 
Conservidayoc would turn out to be as barren of 
foundation as those we had heard from the trust- 
worthy foreman at Huadquifia. One of our inform- 
ants said the Inca city was called Espiritu Pampa, 
or the "Pampa of Ghosts." Would the ruins turn out 
to be "ghosts"? Would they vanish on the arrival 
of white men with cameras and steel measuring 

No one at Vilcabamba had seen the ruins, but 
they said that at the village of Pampaconas, "about 
five leagues from here," there were Indians who had 
actually been to Conservidayoc. Our supplies were 
getting low. There were no shops nearer than 
Lucma; no food was obtainable from the natives. 


Accordingly, notwithstanding the protestations of 
the hospitable gohernador, we decided to start im- 
mediately for Conservidayoc. 

At the end of a long day's march up the Vilca- 
bamba Valley, Professor Foote, with his accustomed 
skill, was preparing the evening meal and we were 
both looking forward with satisfaction to enjoying 
large cups of our favorite beverage. Several years 
ago, when traveling on muleback across the great 
plateau of southern Bolivia, I had learned the value 
of sweet, hot tea as a stimulant and bracer in the 
high Andes. At first astonished to see how much tea 
the Indian arrieros drank, I learned from sad experi- 
ence that it was far better than cold water, which 
often brings on mountain-sickness. This particular 
evening, one swallow of the hot tea caused conster- 
nation. It was the most horrible stuff Imaginable. 
Examination showed small, oily particles floating on 
the surface. Further investigation led to the dis- 
covery that one of our arrieros had that day placed 
our can of kerosene on top of one of the loads. The 
tin became leaky and the kerosene had dripped 
down into a food box. A cloth bag of granulated 
sugar had eagerly absorbed all the oil it could. 
There was no remedy but to throw away half of our 
supply. As I have said, the longer one works in the 
Andes the more desirable does sugar become and 
the more one seems to crave it. Yet we were unable 
to procure any here. 

After the usual delays, caused in part by the diffi- 
culty of catching our mules, which had taken ad- 
vantage of our historical investigations to stray far 


up the mountain pastures, we finally set out from 
the boundaries of known topography, headed for 
"Conservidayoc," a vague place surrounded with 
mystery; a land of hostile savages, albeit said to 
possess the ruins of an Inca town. 

Our first day's journey was to Pampaconas. Here 
and in its vicinity the gobernador told us he could 
procure guides and the half-dozen carriers whose 
services we should require for the jungle trail where 
mules could not be used. As the Indians hereabouts 
were averse to penetrating the wilds of Conservi- 
dayoc and were also likely to be extremely alarmed 
at the sight of men in uniform, the two gendarmes 
who were now accompanying us were instructed 
to delay their departure for a few hours and not to 
reach Pampaconas with our pack train until dusk. 
The gobernador said that if the Indians of Pampa- 
conas caught sight of any brass buttons coming over 
the hills they would hide so effectively that it would 
be impossible to secure any carriers. Apparently 
this was due in part to that love of freedom which 
had led them to abandon the more comfortable 
towns for a frontier village where landlords could 
not call on them for forced labor. Consequently, 
before the arrival of any such striking manifesta- 
tions of official authority as our gendarmes, the 
gobernador and his friend Mogrovejo proposed to 
put in the day craftily commandeering the services 
of a half-dozen sturdy Indians. Their methods will 
be described presently. 

Leaving modern Vilcabamba, we crossed the flat, 
marshy bottom of an old glaciated valley, in which 


one of our mules got thoroughly mired while search- 
ing for the succulent grasses which cover the treach- 
erous bog. Fording the Vilcabamba River, which 
here is only a tiny brook, we climbed out of the 
valley and turned westward. On the mountains 
above us were vestiges of several abandoned mines. 
It was their discovery in 1572 or thereabouts which 
brought Ocampo and the first Spanish settlers to 
this valley. Raimondi says that he found here 
cobalt, nickel, silver-bearing copper ore, and lead 
sulphide. He does not mention any gold-bearing 
quartz. It may have been exhausted long before his 
day. As to the other minerals, the difficulties of 
transportation are so great that it is not likely that 
mining will be renewed here for many years to come. 
At the top of the pass we turned to look back and 
saw a long chain of snow-capped mountains tower- 
ing above and behind the town of Vilcabamba. We 
searched in vain for them on our maps. Raimondi, 
followed by the Royal Geographical Society, did not 
leave room enough for such a range to exist between 
the rivers Apurimac and Urubamba. Mr. Hendrik- 
sen determined our longitude to be 73° west, and 
our latitude to be 13° 8' south. Yet according to 
the latest map of this region, published in the 
preceding year, this was the very position of the 
river Apurimac itself, near its junction with the river 
Pampas. We ought to have been swimming "the 
Great Speaker." Actually we were on top of a lofty 
mountain pass surrounded by high peaks and gla- 
ciers. The mystery was finally solved by Mr. Bum- 
stead in 191 2, when he determined the Apurimac 


and the Urubamba to be thirty miles farther apart 
than any one had supposed. His surveys opened an 
unexplored region, 1500 square miles in extent, whose 
very existence had not been guessed before 191 1. 
It proved to be one of the largest undescribed gla- 
ciated areas in South America. Yet it is less than a 
hundred miles from Cuzco, the chief city in the 
Peruvian Andes, and the site of a university for 
more than three centuries. That Uilcapampa could 
so long defy investigation and exploration shows 
better than anything else how wisely Manco had 
selected his refuge. It is indeed a veritable labyrinth 
of snow-clad peaks, unknown glaciers, and trackless 

Looking west, we saw in front of us a great wil- 
derness of deep green valleys and forest-clad slopes. 
We supposed from our maps that we were now look- 
ing down into the basin of the Apurimac. As a 
matter of fact, we were on the rim of the valley 
of the hitherto uncharted Pampaconas, a branch of 
the Cosireni, one of the affluents of the Urubamba. 
Instead of being the Apurimac Basin, what we saw 
was another unexplored region which drained into 
the Urubamba! 

At the time, however, we did not know where we 
were, but understood from Condore that somewhere 
far down in the montana below us was Conservi- 
dayoc, the sequestered domain of Saavedra and his 
savage Indians. It seemed less likely than ever that 
the Incas could have built a town so far away from 
the climate and food to which they were accustomed. 
The "road" was now so bad that only with the 


greatest difficulty could we coax our sure-footed 
mules to follow it. Once we had to dismount, as 
the path led down a long, steep, rocky stairway of 
ancient origin. At last, rounding a hill, we came in 
sight of a lonesome little hut perched on a shoulder 
of the mountain. In front of it, seated in the sun 
on mats, were two women shelling corn. As soon as 
they saw the gohernador approaching, they stopped 
their work and began to prepare lunch. It was about 
eleven o'clock and they did not need to be told that 
Senor Condore and his friends had not had anything 
but a cup of coffee since the night before. In order 
to meet the emergency of unexpected guests they 
killed four or five squealing cuys (guinea pigs), usu- 
ally to be found scurrying about the mud fioor of 
the huts of mountain Indians. Before long the sa- 
vory odor of roast cuy^ well basted, and cooked-to- 
a-turn on primitive spits, whetted our appetites. 

In the eastern United States one sees guinea pigs 
only as pets or laboratory victims; never as an 
article of food. In spite of the celebrated dogma that 
"Pigs is Pigs," this form of " pork" has never found 
its way to our kitchens, even though these " pigs " live 
on a very clean, vegetable diet. Incidentally guinea 
pigs do not come from Guinea and are in no way 
related to pigs — Mr. Ellis Parker Butler to the 
contrary notwithstanding! They belong rather to 
the same family as rabbits and Belgian hares and 
have, long been a highly prized article of food in 
the Andes of Peru. The wild species are of a grayish 
brown color, which enables them to escape observa- 
tion in their natural habitat. The domestic varie- 


ties, which one sees in the huts of the Indians, are 
piebald, black, white, and tawny, varying from one 
another in color as much as do the llamas, which 
were also domesticated by the same race of people 
thousands of years ago. Although Anglo-Saxon 
"folkways," as Professor Sumner would say, permit 
us to eat and enjoy long-eared rabbits, we draw the 
line at short-eared rabbits, yet they were bred to be 

I am willing to admit that this was the first time 
that I had ever knowingly tasted their delicate flesh, 
although once in the capital of Bolivia I thought 
the hotel kitchen had a diminishing supply! Had I 
not been very hungry, I might never have known 
how delicious a roast guinea pig can be. The meat is 
not unlike squab. To the Indians whose supply of 
animal food is small, whose fowls are treasured for 
their eggs, and whose thin sheep are more valuable 
as wool bearers than as mutton, the succulent guin2a 
pig, "most prolific of mammals," as was discovered 
by Mr. Butler's hero, is a highly valued article of 
food, reserved for special occasions. The North 
American housewife keeps a few tins of sardines 
and cans of preserves on hand for emergencies. Her 
sister in the Andes similarly relies on fat little cuys. 

After lunch, Condore and Mogrovejo divided the 
extensive rolling countryside between them and each 
rode quietly from one lonesome farm to another, 
looking for men to engage as bearers. When they 
were so fortunate as to find the man of the house at 
home or working in his little chacra they greeted him 
pleasantly. When he came forward to shake hands, 


in the usual Indian manner, a silver dollar was un- 
suspectingly slipped into the palm of his right hand 
and he was informed that he had accepted pay for 
services which must now be performed. It seemed 
hard, but this was the only way in which it was 
possible to secure carriers. 

During Inca times the Indians never received pay 
for their labor. A paternal government saw to it 
that they were properly fed and clothed and either 
given abundant opportunity to provide for their 
own necessities or else permitted to draw on official 
stores. In colonial days a more greedy and less 
paternal government took advantage of the ancient 
system and enforced it without taking pains to see 
that it should not cause suffering. Then, for genera- 
tions, thoughtless landlords, backed by local author- 
ity, forced the Indians to work without suitably 
recompensing them at the end of their labors or even 
pretending to carry out promises and wage agree- 
ments. The peons learned that it was unwise to 
perform any labor without first having received 
a considerable portion of their pay. When once they 
accepted money, however, their own custom and 
the law of the land provided that they must carry 
out their obligations. Failure to do so meant legal 

Consequently, when an unfortunate Pampaconas 
Indian found he had a dollar in his hand, he be- 
moaned his fate, but realized that service was inevi- 
table. In vain did he plead that he was "busy," 
that his "crops needed attention," that his "family 
could not spare him," that "he lacked food for a 


journey." Condor^ and Mogrovejo were accus- 
tomed to all varieties of excuses. They succeeded 
in "engaging " half a dozen carriers. Before dark we 
reached the village of Pampaconas, a few small huts 
scattered over grassy hillsides, at an elevation of 
10,000 feet. 

In the notes of one of the military advisers of 
Viceroy Francisco de Toledo is a reference to Pam- 
paconas as a "high, cold place." This is correct. 
Nevertheless, I doubt if the present village is the 
Pampaconas mentioned in the documents of Gar- 
cia's day as being "an important town of the Incas." 
There are no ruins hereabouts. The huts of Pampa- 
conas were newly built of stone and mud, and 
thatched with grass. They were occupied by a group 
of sturdy mountain Indians, who enjoyed unusual 
freedom from ofilicial or other interference and a 
good place in which to raise sheep and cultivate 
potatoes, on the very edge of the dense forest. We 
found that there was some excitement in the village 
because on the previous night a jaguar, or possibly a 
cougar, had come out of the forest, attacked, killed, 
and dragged ofif one of the village ponies. 

We were conducted to the dwelling of a stocky, 
well-built Indian named Guzman, the most reliable 
man in the village, who had been selected to be the 
head of the party of carriers that was to accompany 
us to Conservidayoc. Guzman had some Spanish 
blood in his veins, although he did not boast of it. 
With his wife and six children he occupied one of the 
best huts. A fire in one corner frequently filled it 
with acrid smoke. It was very small and had no 


windows. At one end was a loft where fiimily treas- 
ures could be kept dry and reasonably safe from 
molestation. Piles of sheep skins were arranged for 
visitors to sit upon. Three or four rude niches in 
the walls served in lieu of shelves and tables. The 
floor of well-trodden clay was damp. Three mongrel 
dogs and a flea-bitten cat were welcome to share 
the narrow space with the family and their visitors. 
A dozen hogs entered stealthily and tried to avoid 
attention by putting a muffler on involuntary grunts. 
They did not succeed and were violently ejected by 
a boy with a whip; only to return again and again, 
each time to be driven out as before, squealing 
loudly. Notwithstanding these interruptions, we 
carried on a most interesting conversation with 
Guzman. He had been to Conservidayoc and had 
himself actually seen ruins at Espiritu Pampa. At 
last the mythical " Pampa of Ghosts" began to take 
on in our minds an aspect of reality, even though 
we were careful to remind ourselves that another 
very trustworthy man had said he had seen ruins 
"finer than Ollantaytambo " near Huadquiiia. Guz- 
man did not seem to dread Conservidayoc as much 
as the other Indians, only one of whom had ever 
been there. To cheer them up we purchased a fat 
sheep, for which we paid fifty cents. Guzman 
immediately butchered it in preparation for the jour- 
ney. Although it was August and the middle of the 
dry season, rain began to fall early in the after- 
noon. Sergeant Carrasco arrived after dark with 
our pack animals, but, missing the trail as he neared 
Guzman's place, one of the mules stepped into a bog 


and was extracted only with considerable difficulty. 

We decided to pitch our small pyramidal tent on a 
fairly well-drained bit of turf not far from Guzman's 
little hut. In the evening, after we had had a long 
talk with the Indians, we came back through the 
rain to our comfortable little tent, only to hear vari- 
ous and sundry grunts emerging therefrom. We 
found that during our absence a large sow and six 
fat young pigs, unable to settle down comfortably 
at the Guzman hearth, had decided that our tent 
was much the driest available place on the mountain 
side and that our blankets made a particularly 
attractive bed. They had considerable difficulty 
in getting out of the small door as fast as they 
wished. Nevertheless, the pouring rain and the 
memory of comfortable blankets caused the pigs to 
return at intervals. As we were starting to enjoy our 
first nap, Guzman, with hospitable intent, sent us 
two bowls of steaming soup, which at first glance 
seemed to contain various sizes of white macaroni — 
a dish of which one of us was particularly fond. 
The white hollow cylinders proved to be extraordi- 
narily tough, not the usual kind of macaroni. As a 
matter of fact, we learned that the evening meal 
which Guzman's wife had prepared for her guests 
was made chiefly of sheep's entrails ! 

Rain continued without intermission during the 
whole of a very cold and dreary night. Our tent, 
which had never been wet before, leaked badly; the 
only part which seemed to be thoroughly water- 
proof was the floor. As day dawned we found our- 
selves to be lying in puddles of water. Everything 


was soaked. Furthermore, rain was still falling. 
While we were discussing the situation and wonder- 
ing what we should cook for breakfast, the faithful 
Guzman heard our voices and immediately sent us 
two more bowls of hot soup, which were this time 
more welcome, even though among the bountiful 
com, beans, and potatoes we came unexpectedly 
upon fragments of the teeth and jaws of the sheep. 
Evidently in Pampaconas nothing is wasted. 

We were anxious to make an early start for Con- 
servidayoc, but it was first necessary for our Indians 
to prepare food for the ten days' journey ahead of 
them, Guzman's wife, and I suppose the wives of 
our other carriers, spent the morning grinding chuno 
(frozen potatoes) with a rocking stone pestle on a 
flat stone mortar, and parching or toasting large 
quantities of sweet corn in a terra-cotta olla. With 
chuno and tostado, the body of the sheep, and a 
small quantity of coca leaves, the Indians professed 
themselves to be perfectly contented. Of our own 
provisions we had so small a quantity that we 
were unable to spare any. However, it is doubtful 
whether the Indians would have liked them as much 
as the food to which they had long been accustomed. 

Toward noon, all the Indian carriers but one 
having arrived, and the rain having partly subsided, 
we started for Conservidayoc. We were told that 
it would be possible to use the mules for this day's 
journey. San Fernando, our first stop, was "seven 
leagues" away, far down in the densely wooded 
Pampaconas Valley. Leaving the village we climbed 
up the mountain back of Guzman's hut and fol- 


lowed a faint trail by a dangerous and precarious 
route along the crest of the ridge. The rains had not 
improved the path. Our saddle mules were of little 
use. We had to go nearly all the way on foot. 
Owing to cold rain and mist we could see but little 
of the deep canyon which opened below us, and into 
which we now began to descend through the clouds 
by a very steep, zigzag path, four thousand feet to 
a hot tropical valley. Below the clouds we found 
ourselves near a small abandoned clearing. Passing 
this and fording little streams, we went along a very 
narrow path, across steep slopes, on which maize 
had been planted. Finally we came to another little 
clearing and two extremely primitive little shanties, 
mere shelters not deserving to be called huts; and 
this was San Fernando, the end of the mule trail. 
There was scarcely room enough in them for our 
six carriers. It was with great difficulty we found 
and cleared a place for our tent, although its floor 
was only seven feet square. There was no really 
flat land at all. 

At 8:30 P.M. August 13, 191 1, while lying on the 
ground in our tent, I noticed an earthquake. It 
was felt also by the Indians in the near-by shelter, 
who from force of habit rushed out of their frail 
structure and made a great disturbance, crying out 
that there was a temblor. Even had their little 
thatched roof fallen upon them, as it might have 
done during the stormy night which followed, they 
were in no danger; but, being accustomed to the 
stone walls and red tiled roofs of mountain villages 
where earthquakes sometimes do very serious harm, 


they were greatly excited. The motion seemed to 
me to be like a slight shuffle from west to east, 
lasting three or four seconds, a gentle rocking back 
and forth, with eight or ten vibrations. Several 
weeks later, near Huadquifia, we happened to stop 
at the Colpani telegraph office. The operator said he 
had felt two shocks on August 13th — one at five 
o'clock, which had shaken the books off his table 
and knocked over a box of insulators standing along 
a wall which ran north and south. He said the shock 
which I had felt was the lighter of the two. 

During the night it rained hard, but our tent was 
now adjusting itself to the "dry season" and we 
were more comfortable. Furthermore, camping out 
at 10,000 feet above sea level is very different from 
camping at 6000 feet. This elevation, similar to that 
of the bridge of San Miguel, below Machu Picchu, 
is on the lower edge of the temperate zone and the 
beginning of the torrid tropics. Sugar cane, peppers, 
bananas, and grenadillas grow here as well as maize, 
squashes, and sweet potatoes. None of these things 
will grow at Pampaconas. The Indians who raise 
sheep and white potatoes in that cold region come 
to San Fernando to make chacras or small clearings. 
The three or four natives whom we found here 
were so alarmed by the sight of brass buttons that 
they disappeared during the night rather than take 
the chance of having a silver dollar pressed into 
their hands in the morning! From San Fernando, 
we sent one of our gendarmes back to Pampaconas 
with the mules. Our carriers were good for about 
fifty pounds apiece. 


Half an hour's walk brought us to Vista Alegre, 
another little clearing on an alluvial fan in the bend 
of the river. The soil here seemed to be very rich. 
In the chacra we saw corn stalks eighteen feet in 
height, near a gigantic tree almost completely 
enveloped in the embrace of a mato-palo, or para- 
sitic fig tree. This clearing certainly deserves its 
name, for it commands a "charming view" of the 
green Pampaconas Valley. Opposite us rose ab- 
ruptly a heavily forested mountain, whose sum- 
mit was lost in the clouds a mile above. To circum- 
vent this mountain the river had been flowing in a 
westerly direction ; now it gradually turned to the 
northward. Again we were mystified; for, by Rai- 
mondi's map, it should have gone southward. 

We entered a dense jungle, where the narrow path 
became more and more difficult for our carriers. 
Crawling over rocks, under branches, along slippery 
little cliffs, on steps which had been cut in earth or 
rock, over a trail which not even dogs could fol- 
low unassisted, slowly we made our way down the 
valley. Owing to the heat, humidity, and the fre- 
quent showers, it was mid-afternoon before we 
reached another little clearing called Pacaypata. 
Here, on a hillside nearly a thousand feet above the 
river, our men decided to spend the night in a tiny 
little shelter six feet long and five feet wide. Pro- 
fessor Foote and I had to dig a shelf out of the steep 
hillside in order to pitch our tent. 

The next morning, not being detained by the 
vagaries of a mule train, we made an early start. 
As we followed the faint little trail across the gulches 


tributary to the river Pampaconas, we had to nego- 
tiate several unusually steep descents and ascents. 
The bearers suffered from the heat. They found it 
more and more difficult to carry their loads. Twice 
we had to cross the rapids of the river on primitive 
bridges which consisted only of a few little logs 
lashed together and resting on slippery boulders. 

By one o'clock we found ourselves on a small 
plain (ele. 4500 ft.) in dense woods surrounded by 
tree ferns, vines, and tangled thickets, through which 
it was impossible to see for more than a few feet. Here 
Guzman told us we must stop and rest a while, as 
we were now in the territory of los salvajes, the sav- 
age Indians who acknowledged only the rule of 
Saavedra and resented all intrusion. Guzman did 
not seem to be particularly afraid, but said that we 
ought to send ahead one of our carriers, to warn 
the savages that we were coming on a friendly mis- 
sion and were not in search of rubber gatherers; 
otherwise they might attack us, or run away and 
disappear into the jungle. He said we should never 
be able to find the ruins without their help. The 
carrier who was selected to go ahead did not relish 
his task. Leaving his pack behind, he proceeded 
very quietly and cautiously along the trail and was 
lost to view almost immediately. There followed an 
exciting half-hour while we waited, wondering what 
attitude the savages would take toward us, and 
trying to picture to ourselves the mighty potentate, 
Saavedra, who had been described as sitting in the 
midst of savage luxury, "surrounded by fifty serv- 
ants," and directing his myrmidons to checkmate 


our desires to visit the Inca city on the "pampa of 

Suddenly, we were startled by the crackling of 
twigs and the sound of a man running. We instinc- 
tively held our rifles a little tighter in readiness for 
whatever might befall — when there burst out of 
the woods a pleasant-faced young Peruvian, quite 
conventionally clad, who had come in haste from 
Saavedra, his father, to extend to us a most cordial 
welcome! It seemed scarcely credible, but a glance 
at his face showed that there was no ambush in 
store for us. It was with a sigh of relief that we 
realized there was to be no shower of poisoned 
arrows from the impenetrable thickets. Gathering 
up our packs, we continued along the jungle trail, 
through woods which gradually became higher, 
deeper, and darker, until presently we saw sunlight 
ahead and, to our intense astonishment, the bright 
green of waving sugar cane. A few moments of 
walking through the cane fields found us at a large 
comfortable hut, welcomed very simply and mod- 
estly by Saavedra himself. A more pleasant and 
peaceable little man it was never my good fortune 
to meet. We looked furtively around for his fifty 
savage servants, but all we saw was his good- 
natured Indian wife, three or four small children, 
and a wild-eyed maid-of-all-work, evidently the 
only savage present. Saavedra said some called this 
place "Jesus Maria" because they were so surprised 
when they saw it. 

It is difficult to describe our feelings as we ac- 
cepted Saavedra's invitation to make ourselves at 


home, and sat down to an abundant meal of boiled 
chicken, rice, and sweet cassava {manioc). Saavedra 
gave us to understand that we were not only most 
welcome to anything he had, but that he would do 
everything to enable us to see the ruins, which were, 
it seemed, at Espiritu Pampa, some distance farther 
down the valley, to be reached only by a hard trail 
passable for barefooted savages, but scarcely avail- 
able for us unless we chose to go a good part of the 
distance on hands and knees. The next day, while 
our carriers were engaged in clearing this trail, 
Professor Foote collected a large number of insects, 
including eight new species of moths and butterflies. 

I inspected Saavedra's plantation. The soil having 
lain fallow for centuries, and being rich in humus, 
had produced more sugar cane than he could grind. 
In addition to this, he had bananas, coffee trees, 
sweet potatoes, tobacco, and peanuts. Instead of 
being "a very powerful chief having many Indians 
under his control" — a kind of "Pooh-Bah" — he 
was merely a pioneer. In the utter wilderness, far 
from any neighbors, surrounded by dense forests and 
a few savages, he had established his home. He was 
not an Indian potentate, but only a frontiersman, 
soft-spoken and energetic, an ingenious carpenter 
and mechanic, a modest Peruvian of the best type. 

Owing to the scarcity of arable land he was 
obliged to cultivate such pampas as he could find — 
one an alluvial fan near his house, another a natural 
terrace near the river. Back of the house was a 
thatched shelter under which he had constructed a 
little sugar mill. It had a pair of hardwood rollers, 


each capable of being turned, with much creaking 
and cracking, by a large, rustic wheel made of 
roughly hewn timbers fastened together with 
wooden pins and lashed with thongs, worked by 
hand and foot power. Since Saavedra had been 
unable to coax any pack animals over the trail to 
Conservidayoc he was obliged to depend entirely on 
his own limited strength and that of his active son, 
aided by the uncertain and irregular services of such 
savages as wished to work for sugar, trinkets, or 
other trade articles. Sometimes the savages seemed 
to enjoy the fun of climbing on the great creaking 
tread wheel, as though it were a game. At other 
times they would disappear in the woods. 

Near the mill were some interesting large pots 
which Saavedra was using in the process of boiling 
the juice and making crude sugar. He said he had 
found the pots in the jungle not far away. They had 
been made by the Incas. Four of them were of the 
familiar aryhallus type. Another was of a closely 
related form, having a wide mouth, pointed base, 
single incised, conventionalized, animal-head nub- 
bin attached to the shoulder, and band-shaped 
handles attached vertically below the median line. 
Although capable of holding more than ten gallons, 
this huge pot was intended to be carried on the 
back and shoulders by means of a rope passing 
through the handles and around the nubbin, Saa- 
vedra said that he had found near his house several 
bottle-shaped cists lined with stones, with a flat 
stone on top — evidently ancient graves. The bones 
had entirely disappeared. The cover of one of the 


graves had been pierced; the hole covered with a 
thin sheet of beaten silver. He had also found a few 
stone implements and two or three small bronze 
Inca axes. 

On the pampa, below his house, Saavedra had 
constructed with infinite labor another sugar mill. 
It seemed strange that he should have taken the 
trouble to make two mills; but when one remem- 
bered that he had no pack animals and was usually 
obliged to bring the cane to the mill on his own back 
and the back of his son, one realized that it was 
easier, while the cane was growing, to construct a 
new mill near the cane field than to have to carry 
the heavy bundles of ripe cane up the hill. He said 
his hardest task was to get money with which to 
send his children to school in Cuzco and to pay his 
taxes. The only way in which he could get any cash 
was by making chancaca, crude brown sugar, and 
carrying it on his back, fifty pounds at a time, three 
hard days' journey on foot up the mountain to Pam- 
paconas or Vilcabamba, six or seven thousand feet 
above his little plantation. He said he could usu- 
ally sell such a load for five soles, equivalent to two 
dollars and a half ! His was certainly a hard lot, but 
he did not complain, although he smilingly admitted 
that it was very difficult to keep the trail open, since 
the jungle grew so fast and the floods in the river 
continually washed away his little rustic bridges. 
His chief regret was that as the result of a recent 
revolution, with which he had had nothing to do, 
the government had decreed that all firearms should 
be turned in, and so he had lost the one thing he 




needed to enable him to get fresh meat in the forest. 

In the clearing near the house we were interested 
to see a large turkey-like bird, the pava de la mon- 
tana, glossy black, its most striking feature a high, 
coral red comb. Although completely at liberty, 
it seemed to be thoroughly domesticated. It would 
make an attractive bird for introduction into our 
Southern States. 

Saavedra gave us some very black leaves of 
native tobacco, which he had cured. An inveterate 
smoker who tried it in his pipe said it was without 
exception the strongest stuff he ever had encoun- 
tered ! 

So interested did I become in talking with Saa- 
vedra, seeing his plantation, and marveling that he 
should be worried about taxes and have to obey 
regulations in regard to firearms, I had almost 
forgotten about the wild Indians. Suddenly our 
carriers ran toward the house in a great flurry of 
excitement, shouting that there was a "savage" in 
the bushes near by. The "wild man" was very 
timid, but curiosity finally got the better of fear and 
he summoned up sufficient courage to accept Saa- 
vedra' s urgent invitation that he come out and meet 
us. He proved to be a miserable specimen, suffering 
from a very bad cold in his head. It has been my 
good fortune at one time or another to meet primi- 
tive folk in various parts of America and the Pacific, 
but this man was by far the dirtiest and most 
wretched savage that I have ever seen. 

He was dressed in a long, filthy tunic which came 
nearly to his ankles. It was made of a large square 


of coarsely woven cotton cloth, with a hole in the 
middle for his head. The sides were stitched up, 
leaving holes for the arms. His hair was long, un- 
kempt, and matted. He had small, deep-set eyes, 
cadaverous cheeks, thick lips, and a large mouth. 
His big toes were unusually long and prehensile. 
Slung over one shoulder he carried a small knapsack 
made of coarse fiber net. Around his neck hung 
what at first sight seemed to be a necklace composed 
of a dozen stout cords securely knotted together. 
Although I did not see it in use, I was given to 
understand that when climbing trees, he used this 
stout loop to fasten his ankles together and thus 
secure a tighter grip for his feet. 

By evening two other savages had come in; a 
young married man and his little sister. Both had 
bad colds. Saavedra told us that these Indians were 
Pichanguerras, a subdivision of the Campa tribe. 
Saavedra and his son spoke a little of their language, 
which sounded to our unaccustomed ears like a suc- 
cession of low grunts, breathings, and gutturals. 
It was pieced out by signs. The long tunics worn 
by the men indicated that they had one or more 
wives. Before marrying they wear very scanty 
attire — nothing more than a few rags hanging 
over one shoulder and tied about the waist. The 
long tunic, a comfortable enough garment to wear 
during the cold nights, and their only covering, must 
impede their progress in the jungle; yet they live 
partly by hunting, using bows and arrows. We 
learned that these Pichanguerras had run away from 
the rubber country in the lower valleys; that they 


found it uncomfortably cold at this altitude, 4500 
feet, but preferred freedom in the higher valleys to 
serfdom on a rubber estate. 

Saavedra said that he had named his plantation 
Conservidayoc, because it was in truth "a spot where 
one may be preserved from harm." Such was the 
home of the potentate from whose abode "no one 
had been known to return alive." 



TWO days later we left Conservidayoc for Espi- 
ritu Pampa by the trail which Saavedra's son 
and our Pampaconas Indians had been clearing. 
We emerged from the thickets near a promontory 
where there was a fine view down the valley and 
particularly of a heavily wooded alluvial fan just 
below us. In it were two or three small clearings 
and the little oval huts of the savages of Espiritu 
Pampa, the " Pampa of Ghosts." 

On top of the promontory was the ruin of a small, 
rectangular building of rough stone, once probably 
an Inca watch-tower. From here to Espiritu Pampa 
our trail followed an ancient stone stairway, about 
four feet in width and nearly a third of a mile long. 
It was built of uncut stones. Possibly it was the 
work of those soldiers whose chief duty it was to 
watch from the top of the promontory and who used 
their spare time making roads. We arrived at the 
principal clearing just as a heavy thunder-shower 
began. The huts were empty. Obviously their oc- 
cupants had seen us coming and had disappeared in 
the jungle. We hesitated to enter the home of a 
savage without an invitation, but the terrific down- 
pour overcame our scruples, if not our nervousness. 
The hut had a steeply pitched roof. Its sides were 
made of small logs driven endwise into the ground 


and fastened together with vines. A small fire had 
been burning on the ground. Near the embers were 
two old black ollas of Inca origin. 

In the little chacra, cassava, coca, and sweet po- 
tatoes were growing in haphazard fashion among 
charred and fallen tree trunks ; a typical milpa farm. 
In the clearing were the ruins of eighteen or twenty 
circular houses arranged in an irregular group. We 
wondered if this could be the "Inca city" which 
Lopez Torres had reported. Among the ruins we 
picked up several fragments of Inca pottery. There 
was nothing Incaic about the buildings. One was 
rectangular and one was spade-shaped, but all the 
rest were round. The buildings varied in diameter 
from fifteen to twenty feet. Each had but a single 
opening. The walls had tumbled down, but gave no 
evidence of careful construction. Not far away, in 
woods which had not yet been cleared by the sav- 
ages, we found other circular walls. They were still 
standing to a height of about four feet. If the sav- 
ages have extended their milpa clearings since our 
visit, the falling trees have probably spoiled these 
walls by now. The ancient village probably be- 
longed to a tribe which acknowledged allegiance to 
the Incas, but the architecture of the buildings gave 
no indication of their having been constructed by 
the Incas themselves. We began to wonder whether 
the "Pampa of Ghosts" really had anything im- 
portant in store for us. Undoubtedly this alluvial 
fan had been highly prized in this country of terribly 
steep hills. It must have been inhabited, off and on, 
for many centuries. Yet this was not an " Inca city." 


While we were wondering whether the Incas 
themselves ever lived here, there suddenly appeared 
the naked figure of a sturdy young savage, armed 
with a stout bow and long arrows, and wearing a 
fillet of bamboo. He had been hunting and showed 
us a bird he had shot. Soon afterwards there came 
the two adult savages we had met at Saavedra's, 
accompanied by a cross-eyed friend, all wearing 
long tunics. They offered to guide us to other ruins. 
It was very difficult for us to follow their rapid pace. 
Half an hour's scramble through the jungle brought 
us to a pampa or natural terrace on the banks of a 
little tributary of the Pampaconas. They called it 
Eromboni. Here we found several old artificial ter- 
races and the rough foundations of a long, rectangu- 
lar building 192 feet by 24 feet. It might have had 
twenty-four doors, twelve in front and twelve in 
back, each three and a half feet wide. No lintels 
were in evidence. The walls were only a foot high. 
There was very little building material in sight. Ap- 
parently the structure had never been completed. 
Near by was a typical Inca fountain with three 
stone spouts, or conduits. Two hundred yards be- 
yond the water-carrier's rendezvous, hidden behind 
a curtain of hanging vines and thickets so dense 
we could not see more than a few feet in any direc- 
tion, the savages showed us the ruins of a group of 
stone houses whose walls were still standing in fine 

One of the buildings was rounded at one end. 
Another, standing by itself at the south end of a 
little pampa, had neither doors nor windows. It was 



rectangular. Its four or five niches were arranged 
with unique irregularity. Furthermore, they were 
two feet deep, an unusual dimension. Probably this 
was a storehouse. On the east side of the pampa 
was a structure, 120 feet long by 21 feet wide, 
divided into five rooms of unequal size. The walls 
were of rough stones laid in adobe. Like some of the 
Inca buildings at Ollantaytambo, the lintels of the 
doors were made of three or four narrow uncut 
ashlars. Some rooms had niches. On the north side 
of the pampa was another rectangular building. 
On the west side was the edge of a stone-faced ter- 
race. Below it was a partly enclosed fountain or 
bathhouse, with a stone spout and a stone-lined 
basin. The shapes of the houses, their general ar- 
rangement, the niches, stone roof-pegs and lintels, 
all point to Inca builders. In the buildings we picked 
up several fragments of Inca pottery. 

Equally interesting and very puzzling were half 
a dozen crude Spanish roofing tiles, baked red. All 
the pieces and fragments we could find would not 
have covered four square feet. They were of widely 
different sizes, as though some one had been experi- 
menting. Perhaps an Inca who had seen the new 
red tiled roofs of Cuzco had tried to reproduce them 
here in the jungle, but without success. 

At dusk we all returned to Espiritu Pampa. Our 
faces, hands, and clothes had been torn by the 
jungle; our feet were weary and sore. Nevertheless 
the day's work had been very satisfactory and we 
prepared to enjoy a good night's rest. Alas, we were 
doomed to disappointment. During the day some 


one had brought to the hut eight tame but noisy 
macaws. Furthermore, our savage helpers deter- 
mined to make the night hideous with cries, tom- 
toms, and drums, either to discourage the visits of 
hostile Indians or jaguars, or for the purpose of 
exorcising the demons brought by the white men, or 
else to cheer up their families, who were undoubt- 
edly hiding in the jungle near by. 

The next day the savages and our carriers con- 
tinued to clear away as much as possible of the 
tangled growth near the best ruins. In this process, 
to the intense surprise not only of ourselves, but 
also of the savages, they discovered, just below the 
"bathhouse" where we had stood the day before, 
the well-preserved ruins of two buildings of superior 
construction, well fitted with stone-pegs and numer- 
ous niches, very symmetrically arranged. These 
houses stood by themselves on a little artificial 
terrace. Fragments of characteristic Inca pottery 
were found on the floor, including pieces of a large 

Nothing gives a better idea of the density of the 
jungle than the fact that the savages themselves 
had often been within five feet of these fine walls 
without being aware of their existence. 

Encouraged by this important discovery of the 
most characteristic Inca ruins found in the valley, 
we continued the search, but all that any one was 
able to find was a carefully built stone bridge over a 
brook. Saavedra's son questioned the savages care- 
fully. They said they knew of no other antiquities. 

Who built the stone buildings of Espiritu Pampa 


and ErombonI Pampa? Was this the "Vilcabamba 
Viejo" of Father Calancha, that "University of 
Idolatry where Hved the teachers who were wizards 
and masters of abomination," the place to which 
Friar Marcos and Friar Diego went with so much 
suffering? Was there formerly on this trail a place 
called Ungacacha where the monks had to wade, 
and amused Titu Cusi by the way they handled 
their monastic robes in the water? They called it a 
"three days' journey over rough country." Another 
reference in Father Calancha speaks of Puquiura as 
being "two long days' journey from Vilcabamba." 
It took us five days to go from Espiritu Pampa to 
Pucyura, although Indians, unencumbered by bur- 
dens, and spurred on by necessity, might do it in 
three. It is possible to fit some other details of the 
story into this locality, although there is no place 
on the road called Ungacacha. Nevertheless it does 
not seem to me reasonable to suppose that the 
priests and Virgins of the Sun (the personnel of the 
" University of Idolatry") who fled from cold Cuzco 
with Manco and were established by him somewhere 
in the fastnesses of Uilcapampa would have cared 
to live in the hot valley of Espiritu Pampa. The 
difference in climate is as great as that between 
Scotland and Egypt, or New York and Havana. 
They would not have found in Espiritu Pampa the 
food which they liked. Furthermore, they could 
have found the seclusion and safety which they 
craved just as well in several other parts of the 
province, particularly at Machu Picchu, together 
with a cool, bracing climate and food-stuffs more 


nearly resembling those to which they were ac- 
customed. Finally Calancha says "Vilcabamba the 
Old" was "the largest city" in the province, a term 
far more applicable to Machu Picchu or even to 
Choqquequirau than to Espiritu Pampa. 

On the other hand there seems to be no doubt 
that Espiritu Pampa in the montana does meet the 
requirements of the place called Vilcabamba by 
the companions of Captain Garcia. They speak of 
it as the town and valley to which Tupac Amaru, 
the last Inca, escaped after his forces lost the 
"young fortress" of Uiticos. Ocampo, doubtless 
wishing to emphasize the difference between it and 
his own metropolis, the Spanish town of Vilca- 
bamba, calls the refuge of Tupac "Vilcabamba the 
old." Ocampo's new "Vilcabamba" was not in 
existence when Friar Marcos and Friar Diego lived 
in this province. If Calancha wrote his chronicles 
from their notes, the term "old " would not apply to 
Espiritu Pampa, but to an older Vilcabamba than 
either of the places known to Ocampo. 

The ruins are of late Inca pattern, not of a kind 
which would have required a long period to build. 
The unfinished building may have been under con- 
struction during the latter part of the reign of Titu 
Cusi. It was Titu Cusi's desire that Rodriguez de 
Figueroa should meet him at Pampaconas. The Inca 
evidently came from a Vilcabamba down in the 
montana, and, as has been said, brought Rodriguez 
a present of a macaw and two hampers of peanuts, 
articles of trade still common at Conservidayoc. 
There appears to me every reason to believe that 


the ruins of Espiritu Pampa are those of one of the 
favorite residences of this Inca — the very Vilca- 
bamba, in fact, where he spent his boyhood and 
from which he journeyed to meet Rodriguez in 1565.^ 
In 1572, when Captain Garcia took up the pursuit 
of Tupac Amaru after the victory of Vilcabamba, 
the Inca fled "inland toward the valley of Sima- 
ponte ... to the country of the Mafiaries Indians, 
a warlike tribe and his friends, where balsas and 
canoes were posted to save him and enable him to 
escape." There is now no valley in this vicinity 
called Simaponte, so far as we have been able to 
discover. The Mafiaries Indians are said to have 
lived on the banks of the lower Urubamba. In or- 
der to reach their country Tupac Amaru probably 
went down the Pampaconas from Espiritu Pampa. 
From the " Pampa of Ghosts" to canoe navigation 
would have been but a short journey. Evidently 
his friends who helped him to escape were canoe- 
men. Captain Garcia gives an account of the pur- 
suit of Tupac Amaru in which he says that, not de- 
terred by the dangers of the jungle or the river, he 
constructed five rafts on which he put some of his 
soldiers and, accompanying them himself, went 
down the rapids, escaping death many times by 
swimming, until he arrived at a place called Momori, 
only to find that the Inca, learning of his approach, 
had gone farther into the woods. Nothing daunted, 
Garcia followed him, although he and his men now 
had to go on foot and barefooted, with hardly any- 

^ Titu Cusi was an illegitimate son of Manco. His mother was not 
of royal blood and may have been a native of the warm valleys. 


thing to eat, most of their provisions having been 
lost in the river, until they finally caught Tupac and 
his friends; a tragic ending to a terrible chase, hard 
on the white man and fatal for the Incas. 

It was with great regret that I was now unable to 
follow the Pampaconas River to its junction with 
the Urubamba. It seemed possible that the Pam- 
paconas might be known as the Sirialo, or the Cori- 
beni, both of which were believed by Dr. Bowman's 
canoe-men to rise in the mountains of Vilcabamba. 
It was not, however, until the summer of 1915 that 
we were able definitely to learn that the Pampa- 
conas was really a branch of the Cosireni. It seems 
likely that the Cosireni was once called the "Sima- 
ponte." Whether the Comberciato is the " Momori " 
is hard to say. 

To be the next to follow in the footsteps of Tupac 
Amaru and Captain Garcia was the privilege of 
Messrs. Heller, Ford, and Maynard. They found 
that the unpleasant features had not been exag- 
gerated. They were tormented by insects and great 
quantities of ants — a small red ant found on tree 
trunks, and a large black one, about an inch in 
length, frequently seen among the leaves on the 
ground. The bite of the red ant caused a stinging 
and burning for about fifteen minutes. One of their 
carriers who was bitten in the foot by a black ant 
suffered intense pain for a number of hours. Not 
only his foot, but also his leg and hip were affected. 
The savages were both fishermen and hunters; 
the fish being taken with nets, the game killed with 
bows and arrows. Peccaries were shot from a blind 


made of palm leaves a few feet from a runway. 
Fishing brought rather meager results. Three In- 
dians fished all night and caught only one fish, a 
perch weighing about four pounds. 

The temperature was so high that candles could 
easily be tied in knots. Excessive humidity caused 
all leather articles to become blue with mould. 
Clouds of flies and mosquitoes increased the likeli- 
hood of spreading communicable jungle fevers. 

The river Comberciato was reached by Mr. 
Heller at a point not more than a league from its 
junction with the Urubamba. The lower course of 
the Comberciato is not considered dangerous to 
canoe navigation, but the valley is much narrower 
than the Cosireni. The width of the river is about 
150 feet and its volume is twice that of the Cosireni. 
The climate is very trying. The nights are hot. 
Insect pests are numerous. Mr. Heller found that 
"the forest was filled with annoying, though sting- 
less, bees which persisted in attempting to roost on 
the countenance of any human being available." 
On the banks of the Comberciato he found several 
families of savages. All the men were keen hunters 
and fishermen. Their weapons consisted of powerful 
bows made from the wood of a small palm and long 
arrows made of reeds and finished with feathers 
arranged in a spiral. 

Monkeys were abundant. Specimens of six dis- 
tinct genera were found, including the large red 
howler, inert and easily located by its deep, roaring 
bellow which can be heard for a distance of several 
miles; the giant black spider monkey, very alert, 


and, when frightened, fairly flying through the 
branches at astonishing speed; and a woolly mon- 
key, black in color, and very intelligent in expres- 
sion, frequently tamed by the savages, who "enjoy 
having them as pets but are not averse to eating 
them when food is scarce." " The flesh of monkeys 
is greatly appreciated by these Indians, who pre- 
served what they did not require for immediate 
needs by drying it over the smoke of a wood fire." 

On the Cosireni Mr. Maynard noticed that one of 
his Indian guides carried a package, wrapped in 
leaves, which on being opened proved to contain 
forty or fifty large hairless grubs or caterpillars. 
The man finally bit their heads off and threw the 
bodies into a small bag, saying that the grubs were 
considered a great delicacy by the savages. 

The Indians we met at Espiritu Pampa closely 
resembled those seen in the lower valley. All our 
savages were bareheaded and barefooted. They live 
so much in the shelter of the jungle that hats are 
not necessary. Sandals or shoes would only make 
it harder to use the slippery little trails. They had 
seen no strangers penetrate this valley for about 
ten years, and at first kept their wives and children 
well secluded. Later, when Messrs. Hendriksen and 
Tucker were sent here to determine the astronomi- 
cal position of Espiritu Pampa, the savages per- 
mitted Mr. Tucker to take photographs of their 
families. Perhaps it is doubtful whether they knew 
just what he was doing. At all events they did not 
run away and hide. 

All the men and older boys wore white fillets of 

w St' 
p w 



bamboo. The married men had smeared paint on 
their faces, and one of them was wearing the char- 
acteristic lip ornament of the Campas. Some of the 
children wore no clothing at all. Two of the wives 
wore long tunics like the men. One of them had a 
truly savage face, daubed with paint. She wore no 
fillet, had the best tunic, and wore a handsome neck- 
lace made of seeds and the skins of small birds of 
brilliant plumage, a work of art which must have 
cost infinite pains and the loss of not a few arrows. 
All the women carried babies in little hammocks 
slung over the shoulder. One little girl, not more 
than six years old, was carrying on her back a child 
of two, in a hammock supported from her head by 
a tump-line. It will be remembered that forest In- 
dians nearly always use tump-lines so as to allow 
their hands free play. One of the wives was fairer 
than the others and looked as though she might 
have had a Spanish ancestor. The most savage- 
looking of the women was very scantily clad, wore 
a necklace of seeds, a white lip ornament, and a few 
rags tied around her waist. All her children were 
naked. The children of the woman with the hand- 
some necklace were clothed in pieces of old tunics, 
and one of them, evidently her mother's favorite, 
was decorated with bird skins and a necklace made 
from the teeth of monkeys. 

Such were the people among whom Tupac Amaru 
took refuge when he fled from Vilcabamba. Whether 
he partook of such a delicacy as monkey meat, 
which all Amazonian Indians relish, but which is 
not eaten by the highlanders, may be doubted. 


Garcilasso speaks of Tupac Amaru's preferring to 
entrust himself to the hands of the Spaniards 
"rather than to perish of famine." His Indian 
allies lived perfectly well in a region where monkeys 
abound. It is doubtful whether they would ever 
have permitted Captain Garcia to capture the Inca 
had they been able to furnish Tupac with such food 
as he was accustomed to. 

At all events our investigations seem to point to 
the probability of this valley having been an im- 
portant part of the domain of the last Incas. It 
would have been pleasant to prolong our studies, 
but the carriers were anxious to return to Pampa- 
conas. Although they did not have to eat monkey 
meat, they were afraid of the savages and nervous 
as to what use the latter might some day make of 
the powerful bows and long arrows. 

At Conservidayoc Saavedra kindly took the trou- 
ble to make some sugar for us. He poured the 
syrup in oblong moulds cut in a row along the side 
of a big log of hard wood. In some of the moulds 
his son placed handfuls of nicely roasted peanuts. 
The result was a confection or "emergency ration" 
which we greatly enjoyed on our return journey. 

At San Fernando we met the pack mules. The 
next day, in the midst of continuing torrential 
tropical downpours, we climbed out of the hot val- 
ley to the cold heights of Pampaconas. We were 
soaked with perspiration and drenched with rain. 
Snow had been falling above the village; our teeth 
chattered like castanets. Professor Foote immedi- 
ately commandeered Mrs. Guzman's fire and filled 


our tea kettle. It may be doubted whether a more 
wretched, cold, wet, and bedraggled party ever ar- 
rived at Guzman's hut; certainly nothing ever 
tasted better than that steaming hot sweet tea. 



IT will be remembered that while on the search for 
the capital of the last Incas we had found several 
groups of ruins which we could not fit entirely into 
the story of Manco and his sons. The most im- 
portant of these was Machu Picchu. Many of its 
buildings are far older than the ruins of Rosaspata 
and Espiritu Pampa. To understand just what we 
may have found at Machu Picchu it Is now neces- 
sary to tell the story of a celebrated city, whose 
name, Tampu-tocco, was not used even at the time 
of the Spanish Conquest as the cognomen of any of 
the Inca towns then in existence. I must draw the 
reader's attention far away from the period when 
Pizarro and Manco, Toledo and Tupac Amaru were 
the protagonists, back to events which occurred 
nearly seven hundred years before their day. The 
last Incas ruled in Uiticos between 1536 and 1572. 
The last Amautas flourished about 800 a.d. 

The Amautas had been ruling the Peruvian high- 
lands for about sixty generations, when, as has been 
told in Chapter VI, invaders came from the south 
and east. The Amautas had built up a wonderful 
civilization. Many of the agricultural and engineer- 
ing feats which we ordinarily assign to the Incas 
were really achievements of the Amautas. The last 
of the Amautas was Pachacuti VI, who was killed 


by an arrow on the battle-field of La Raya. The 
historian Montesinos, whose work on the antiqui- 
ties of Peru has recently been translated for the 
Hakluyt Society by Mr. P. A. Means, of Harvard 
University, tells us that the followers of Pachacuti 
VI fled with his body to "Tampu-tocco." This, 
says the historian, was "a healthy place" where 
there was a cave in which they hid the Amauta's 
body. Cuzco, the finest and most important of all 
their cities, was sacked. General anarchy prevailed 
throughout the ancient empire. The good old days 
of peace and plenty disappeared before the invader. 
The glory of the old empire was destroyed, not to 
return for several centuries. In these dark ages, 
resembling those of European medieval times which 
followed the Germanic migrations and the fall of 
the Roman Empire, Peru was split up into a large 
number of small independent units. Each district 
chose its own ruler and carried on depredations 
against its neighbors. The effects of this may still 
be seen in the ruins of small fortresses found guard- 
ing the way into isolated Andean valleys. 

Montesinos says that those who were most loyal 
to the Amautas were few in number and not strong 
enough to oppose their enemies successfully. Some 
of them, probably the principal priests, wise men, 
and chiefs of the ancient regime, built a new city at 
"Tampu-tocco." Here they kept alive the memory 
of the Amautas and lived in such a relatively civi- 
lized manner as to draw to them, little by little, 
those who wished to be safe from the prevailing 
chaos and disorder and the tyranny of the inde- 


pendent chiefs or "robber barons." In their new 
capital, they elected a king, Titi Truaman Quicho. 

The survivors of the old regime enjoyed living at 
Tampu-tocco, because there never have been any 
earthquakes, plagues, or tremblings there. Further- 
more, if fortune should turn against their new young 
king, Titi Truaman, and he should be killed, they 
could bury him in a very sacred place, namely, the 
cave where they hid the body of Pachacuti VI. 

Fortune was kind to the founders of the new 
kingdom. They had chosen an excellent place of 
refuge where they were not disturbed. To their 
ruler, the king of Tampu-tocco, and to his successors 
nothing worth recording happened for centuries. 
During this period several of the kings wished to 
establish themselves in ancient Cuzco, where the 
great Amautas had reigned, but for one reason or 
another were obliged to forego their ambitions. 

One of the most enlightened rulers of Tampu- 
tocco was a king called Tupac Cauri, or Pachacuti 
VII. In his day people began to write on the 
leaves of trees. He sent messengers to the various 
parts of the highlands, asking the tribes to stop 
worshiping idols and animals, to cease practicing 
evil customs which had grown up since the fall 
of the Amautas, and to return to the ways of their 
ancestors. He met with little encouragement. On 
the contrary, his ambassadors were killed and little 
or no change took place. Discouraged by the failure 
of his attempts at reformation and desirous of 
learning its cause, Tupac Cauri was told by his 
soothsayers that the matter which most displeased 


the gods was the invention of writing. Thereupon 
he forbade anybody to practice writing, under 
penalty of death. This mandate was observed with 
such strictness that the ancient folk never again 
used letters. Instead, they used quipus, strings and 
knots. It was supposed that the gods were ap- 
peased, and every one breathed easier. No one re- 
alized how near the Peruvians as a race had come 
to taking a most momentous step. 

This curious and interesting tradition relates to 
an event supposed to have occurred many centuries 
before the Spanish Conquest. We have no ocular 
evidence to support it. The skeptic may brush it 
aside as a story intended to appeal to the vanity of 
persons with Inca blood in their veins; yet it is not 
told by the half-caste Garcilasso, who wanted Euro- 
peans to admire his maternal ancestors and wrote 
his book accordingly, but is in the pages of that 
careful investigator Montesinos, a pure-blooded 
Spaniard. As a matter of fact, to students of Sum- 
ner's "Folkways," the story rings true. Some 
3'oung fellow, brighter than the rest, developed a 
system of ideographs which he scratched on broad, 
smooth leaves. It worked. People were beginning 
to adopt it. The conservative priests of Tampu- 
tocco did not like it. There was danger lest some of 
the precious secrets, heretofore handed down orally 
to the neophytes, might become public property. 
Nevertheless, the invention was so useful that it 
began to spread. There followed some extremely 
unlucky event — the ambassadors were killed, the 
king's plans miscarried. What more natural than 


that the newly discovered ideographs should be 
blamed for it? As a result, the king of Tampu-tocco, 
instigated thereto by the priests, determined to 
abolish this new thing. Its usefulness had not yet 
been firmly established. In fact it was inconvenient; 
the leaves withered, dried, and cracked, or blew 
away, and the writings were lost. Had the new in- 
vention been permitted to exist a little longer, some 
one would have commenced to scratch ideographs 
on rocks. Then it would have persisted. The rulers 
and priests, however, found that the important 
records of tribute and taxes could be kept perfectly 
well by means of the quipus. And the "job" of 
those whose duty it was to remember what each 
string stood for was assured. After all there is noth- 
ing unusual about Montesinos' story. One has only 
to look at the history of Spain itself to realize that 
royal bigotry and priestly intolerance have often 
crushed new ideas and kept great nations from 
making important advances. 

Montesinos says further that Tupac Caurl estab- 
lished in Tampu-tocco a kind of university where 
boys were taught the use of quipus, the method of 
counting and the significance of the different colored 
strings, while their fathers and older brothers were 
trained in military exercises — in other words, 
practiced with the sling, the bolas and the war-club; 
perhaps also with bows and arrows. Around the 
name of Tupac Cauri, or Pachacuti VII, as he wished 
to be called, is gathered the story of various intel- 
lectual movements which took place in Tampu-tocco. 

Finally, there came a time when the skill and 


military efficiency of the little kingdom rose to a 
high plane. The ruler and his councilors, bearing in 
mind the tradition of their ancestors who centuries 
before had dwelt in Cuzco, again determined to 
make the attempt to reestablish themselves there. 
An earthquake, which ruined many buildings in 
Cuzco, caused rivers to change their courses, de- 
stroyed towns, and was followed by the outbreak of a 
disastrous epidemic. The chiefs were obliged to give 
up their plans, although in healthy Tampu-tocco 
there was no pestilence. Their kingdom became more 
and more crowded. Every available square yard of 
arable land was terraced and cultivated. The men 
were intelligent, well organized, and accustomed to 
discipline, but they could not raise enough food for 
their families; so, about 1300 A.D., they were forced 
to secure arable land by conquest, under the leader- 
ship of the energetic ruler of the day. His name was 
Manco Ccapac, generally called the first Inca, the 
ruler for whom the Manco of 1536 was named. 

There are many stories of the rise of the first Inca. 
When he had grown to man's estate, he assembled 
his people to see how he could secure new lands for 
them. After consultation with his brothers, he de- 
termined to set out with them "toward the hill over 
which the sun rose," as we are informed by Pacha- 
cuti Yamqui Salcamayhua, an Indian who was a 
descendant of a long line of Incas, whose great- 
grandparents lived in the time of the Spanish Con- 
quest, and who wrote an account of the antiquities 
of Peru in 1620. He gives the history of the Incas as 
it was handed down to the descendants of the former 


rulers of Peru. In it we read that Manco Ccapac 
and his brothers finally succeeded in reaching Cuzco 
and settled there. With the return of the descend- 
ants of the Amautas to Cuzco there ended the glory 
of Tampu-tocco. Manco married his own sister in 
order that he might not lose caste and that no other 
family be elevated by this marriage to be on an 
equality with his. He made good laws, conquered 
many provinces, and is regarded as the founder of 
the Inca dynasty. The highlanders came under his 
sway and brought him rich presents. The Inca, as 
Manco Ccapac now came to be known, was recog- 
nized as the most powerful chief, the most valiant 
fighter, and the most lucky warrior in the Andes. 
His captains and soldiers were brave, well disciplined, 
and well armed. All his affairs prospered greatly. 
"Afterward he ordered works to be executed at the place 
oj his birth, consisting of a masonry wall with three 
windows, which were emblems of the house of his 
fathers whence he descended. The first window was 
called Tampu-tocco.'^ I quote from Sir Clements 
Markham's translation. 

The Spaniards who asked about Tampu-tocco 
were told that it was at or near Paccaritampu, a 
small town eight or ten miles south of Cuzco. I 
learned that ruins are very scarce in its vicinity. 
There are none in the town. The most important 
are the ruins of Maucallacta, an Inca village, a few 
miles away. Near it I found a rocky hill consisting 
of several crags and large rocks, the surface of one of 
which is carved into platforms and two sleeping 
pumas. It is called Puma Urco. Beneath the rocks 

^i^ .t^C^"i*yH». 

"^ ^ - *^ ,>i 


are some caves. I was told they had recently been 
used by political refugees. There is enough about 
the caves and the characteristics of the ruins near 
Paccaritampu to lend color to the story told to the 
early Spaniards. Nevertheless, it would seem as if 
Tampu-tocco must have been a place more remote 
from Cuzco and better defended by Nature from 
any attacks on that side. How else would it have 
been possible for the disorganized remnant of Pacha- 
cuti VI's army to have taken refuge there and set up 
an independent kingdom in the face of the warlike 
invaders from the south? A few men might have hid 
in the caves of Puma Urco, but Paccaritampu is 
not a natural citadel. 

The surrounding region is not difficult of access. 
There are no precipices between here and the Cuzco 
Basin. There are no natural defenses against such 
an invading force as captured the capital of the 
Amautas. Furthermore, tampu means "a place of 
temporary abode," or "a tavern," or "an improved 
piece of ground" or "farm far from a town"; tocco 
means "window." There is an old tavern at Mau- 
callacta near Paccaritampu, but there are no win- 
dows in the building to justify the name of "window 
tavern" or "place of temporary abode" (or " farm 
far from a town") "noted for its windows." There 
is nothing of a "masonry wall with three win- 
dows" corresponding to Salcamayhua's description 
of Manco Ccapac's memorial at his birthplace. The 
word "Tampu-tocco" does not occur on any map 
I have been able to consult, nor is it in the exhaust- 
ive gazetteer of Peru compiled by Paz Soldan. 



IT was In July, 191 1, that we first entered that 
marvelous canyon^ of the JJrubamba, where the 
river escapes from the cold regions near Cuzco 
by tearing its way through gigantic mountains of 
granite. From Torontoy to Colpani the road runs 
through a land of matchless charm. It has the majes- 
tic grandeur of the Canadian Rockies, as well as the 
startling beauty of the Nuuanu Pali near Honolulu, 
and the enchanting vistas of the Koolau Ditch Trail 
on Maui. In the variety of its charms and the power 
of its spell, I know of no place in the world which can 
compare with it. Not only has it great snow peaks 
looming above the clouds more than two miles over- 
head; gigantic precipices of many-colored granite 
rising sheer for thousands of feet above the foam- 
ing, glistening, roaring rapids; it has also, in strik- 
ing contrast, orchids and tree ferns, the delectable 
beauty of luxurious vegetation, and the mysterious 
witchery of the jungle. One is drawn irresistibly 
onward by ever-recurring surprises through a deep, 
winding gorge, turning and twisting past overhang- 
ing cliffs of incredible height. Above all, there is the 
fascination of finding here and there under the sway- 
ing vines, or perched on top of a beetling crag, the 
rugged masonry of a bygone race; and of trying to 
understand the bewildering romance of the ancient 


builders who ages ago sought refuge in a region 
which appears to have been expressly designed by 
Nature as a sanctuary for the oppressed, a place 
where they might fearlessly and patiently give ex- 
pression to their passion for walls of enduring 
beauty. Space forbids any attempt to describe in 
detail the constantly changing panorama, the rank 
tropical foliage, the countless terraces, the towering 
clifTs, the glaciers peeping out between the clouds. 

We had camped at a place near the river, called 
Mandor Pampa. Melchor Arteaga, proprietor of the 
neighboring farm, had told us of ruins at Machu 
Picchu, as was related in Chapter X. 

The morning of July 24th dawned in a cold 
drizzle. Arteaga shivered and seemed inclined to 
stay in his hut. I offered to pay him well if he would '^ 
show me the ruins. He demurred and said it was 
too hard a climb for such a wet day. When he found 
that we were willing to pay him a sol, three or four 
times the ordinary daily wage in this vicinity, he 
finally agreed to guide us to the ruins. No one sup- 
posed that they would be particularly interesting. 
Accompanied by Sergeant Carrasco I left camp at ■ 
ten o'clock and went some distance upstream. On 
the road we passed a venomous snake which re- 
cently had been killed. This region has an unpleas- 
ant notoriety for being the favorite haunt of 
"vipers." The lance-headed or yellow viper, com- 
monly known as the fer-de-lance, a very venomous 
serpent capable of making considerable springs 
when in pursuit of its prey, is common hereabouts. 
Later two of our mules died from snake-bite. 


After a walk of three quarters of an hour the 
guide left the main road and plunged down through 
the jungle to the bank of the river. Here there was 
a primitive "bridge" which crossed the roaring 
rapids at its narroweslrpart, where the stream was 
forced to flow between two great boulders. The 
bridge was made of half a dozen very slender logs, 
some of which were not long enough to span the 
distance between the boulders. They had been 
spliced and lashed together with vines. Arteaga 
and Carrasco took off their shoes and crept gingerly 
across, using their somewhat prehensile toes to 
keep from slipping. It was obvious that no one 
could have lived for an instant in the rapids, but 
would immediately have been dashed to pieces 
against granite boulders. I am frank to confess 
that I got down on hands and knees and crawled 
across, six inches at a time. Even after we reached 
the other side I could not help wondering what 
would happen to the "bridge" if a particularly 
heavy shower should fall in the valley above. A 
light rain had fallen during the night. The river had 
risen so that the bridge was already threatened by 
the foaming rapids. It would not take much more 
rain to wash away the bridge entirely. If this should 
happen during the day it might be very awkward. 
As a matter of fact, it did happen a few days later 
and the next explorers to attempt to cross the river 
at this point found only one slender log remaining. 

Leaving the stream, we struggled up the bank 
through a dense jungle, and in a few minutes reached 
the bottom of a precipitous slope. For an hour and 


twenty minutes we had a hard climb. A good part 
of the distance we went on all fours, sometimes 
hanging on by the tips of our fingers. Here and 
there, a primitive ladder made from the roughly 
hewn trunk of a small tree was placed in such a way 
as to help one over what might otherwise have 
proved to be an impassable cliff. In another place 
the slope was covered with slippery grass where 
it was hard to find either handholds or footholds. 
The guide said that there were lots of snakes here. 
The humidity was great, the heat was excessive, 
and we were not in training. 

Shortly after noon we reached a little grass- 
covered hut where several good-natured Indians, 
pleasantly surprised at our unexpected arrival, wel- 
comed us with dripping gourds full of cool, delicious 
water. Then they set before us a few cooked sweet 
potatoes, called here cumara, a Quichua word identi- 
cal with the Polynesian kumala, as has been pointed 
out by Mr. Cook. 

Apart from the wonderful view of the canyon, 
all we could see from our cool shelter was a couple 
of small grass huts and a few ancient stone-faced 
terraces. Two pleasant Indian farmers, Richarte 
and Alvarez, had chosen this eagle's nest for their 
home. They said they had found plenty of terraces 
here on which to grow their crops and they were 
usually free from undesirable visitors. They did not 
speak Spanish, but through Sergeant Carrasco I 
learned that there were more ruins "a little farther 
along." In this country one never can tell whether 
such a report is worthy of credence. "He may have 


been lying" is a good footnote to affix to all hearsay 
evidence. Accordingly, I was not unduly excited, 
nor in a great hurry to move. The heat was still 
great, the water from the Indian's spring was cool 
and delicious, and the rustic wooden bench, hos- 
pitably covered immediately after my arrival with 
a soft, woolen poncho, seemed most comfortable. 
Furthermore, the view was simply enchanting. 
Tremendous green precipices fell away to the white 
rapids of the Urubamba below. Immediately in 
front, on the north side of the valley, was a great 
granite cliff rising 2000 feet sheer. To the left was 
the solitary peak of Huayna Picchu, surrounded by 
seemingly inaccessible precipices. On all sides were 
rocky cliffs. Beyond them cloud-capped mountains 
rose thousands of feet above us. 

The Indians said there were two paths to the out- 
side world. Of one we had already had a taste; the 
other, they said, was more difficult — a perilous 
path down the face of a rocky precipice on the other 
side of the ridge. It was their only means of 
in the wet season, when the bridge over which we 
had come could not be maintained. I was not sur- 
prised to learn that they went away from home only 
"about once a month." 

Richarte told us that they had been living here 
four years. It seems probable that, owing to its 
inaccessibility, the canyon had been unoccupied for 
several centuries, but with the completion of the 
new government road settlers began once more to 
occupy this region. In time somebody clambered up 
the precipices and found on the slopes of Machu 


PIcchu, at an elevation of 9000 feet above the sea, 
an abundance of rich soil conveniently situated on 
artificial terraces, in a fine climate. Here the Indians 
had finally cleared off some ruins, burned over a few 
terraces, and planted crops of maize, sweet and 
white potatoes, sugar cane, beans, peppers, tree 
tomatoes, and gooseberries. At first they appropri- 
ated some of the ancient houses and replaced the 
roofs of wood and thatch. They found, however, 
that there were neither springs nor wells near the 
ancient buildings. An ancient aqueduct which had 
once brought a tiny stream to the citadel had long 
since disappeared beneath the forest, filled with 
earth washed from the upper terraces. So, abandon- 
ing the shelter of the ruins, the Indians were now 
enjoying the convenience of living near some springs 
in roughly built thatched huts of their own design. 

Without the slightest expectation of finding any- 
thing more interesting than the stone-faced terraces 
of which I already had a glimpse, and the ruins of 
two or three stone houses such as we had encoun- 
tered at various places on the road between Ollan- 
taytambo and Torontoy, I finally left the cool shade 
of the pleasant little hut and climbed farther up the 
ridge and around a slight promontory. Arteaga had 
"been here once before," and decided to rest and 
gossip with Richarte and Alvarez in the hut. They 
sent a small boy with me as a guide. 

Hardly had we rounded the promontory when the 
character of the stonework began to improve. A 
flight of beautifully constructed terraces, each two 
hundred yards long and ten feet high, had been 


recently rescued from the jungle by the Indians. 
A forest of large trees had been chopped down and 
burned over to make a clearing for agricultural pur- 
poses. Crossing these terraces, I entered the un- 
touched forest beyond, and suddenly found myself 
in a maze of beautiful granite houses! They were 
covered with trees and moss and the growth of cen- 
turies, but in the dense shadow, hiding In bamboo 
thickets and tangled vines, could be seen, here and 
there, walls of white granite ashlars most carefully 
cut and exquisitely fitted together. Buildings with 
windows were frequent. Here at least was a "place 
far from town and conspicuous for its windows." 

Under a carved rock the little boy showed me a 
cave beautifully lined with the finest cut stone. 
It was evidently intended to be a Royal Mauso- 
leum. On top of this particular boulder a semi- 
circular building had been constructed. The wall 
followed the natural curvature of the rock and was 
keyed to it by one of the finest examples of masonry 
I have ever seen. This beautiful wall, made of care- 
fully matched ashlars of pure white granite, espe- 
cially selected for its fine grain, was the work of a 
master artist. The interior surface of the wall was 
broken by niches and square stone-pegs. The ex- 
terior surface was perfectly simple and unadorned. 
The lower courses, of particularly large ashlars, 
gave it a look of solidity. The upper courses, dimin- 
ishing in size toward the top, lent grace and deli- 
cacy to the structure. The flowing lines, the sym- 
metrical arrangement of the ashlars, and the gradual 
gradation of the courses, combined to produce a 


« O CA) 

W D < 

^ ^ &- 

^ ^ I 

« w S 

E u !^ 

i? b; •< 


wonderful effect, softer and mor e pleasi ng than that 
oFthe m arble ~temples of tEe Old Wor ld. Owing to 
the absence of mortar, there are no ugly spaces be- 
tween the rocks. They might have grown together. 

The elusive beauty of this chaste, undecorated 
surface seems to me to be due to the fact that the 
wall was built under the eye of a master mason who 
knew not the straight edge, the plumb rule, or the 
square. He had no instruments of precision, so he 
had to depend on his eye. He had a good eye, an 
artistic eye, an eye for symmetry and beauty of 
form. His product received none of the harshness of 
mechanical and mathematical accuracy. The appar- 
ently rectangular blocks are not really rectangular. 
The apparently straight lines of the courses are not 
actually straight in the exact sense of that term. 

To my astonishment I saw that this wall and its 
adjoining semicircular temple over the cave were 
as fine as the finest stonework in the far-famed 
Temple of the Sun in Cuzco. Surprise followed sur- 
prise in bewildering succession. I climbed a marvel- 
ous great stairway of large granite blocks, walked 
along a pampa where the Indians had a small vege- 
table garden, and came into a little clearing. Here 
were the ruins of two of the fine st structures I have 
ever seen in Peru. Not only were they made of 
selected blocks of beautifully grained white granite; 
their walls contained ashlars of Cyclopean size, ten 
feet in length, and higher than a man. The sight 
held me spellbound. 

'^ach building had only three walls and was 
entirely open on the side toward the clearing. The 


principal temple was lined with exquisitely made 
niches, five high up at each end, and seven on the 
back wail. There were seven courses of ashlars in the 
end walls. Under the seven rear niches was a rec- 
tangular block fourteen feet long, probably a sacri- 
ficial altar. The building did not look as though 
it had ever had a roof. The top course of beauti- 
fully smooth ashlars was not intended to be covered. 

The other temple is on the east side of the pampa. 
I called it the Temple of the Three Windows. Like 
its neighbor, it is unique among Inca ruins. Its 
eastern wall, overlooking the citadel, is a massive 
stone framework for three conspicuously large win- 
dows, obviously too large to serve any useful pur- 
pose, yet most beautifully made with the greatest 
care and solidity. This was clearly a ceremonial edi- 
fice of peculiar significance. Nowhere else in Peru, 
so far as I know, is there a similar structure con- 
spicuous as "a masonry wall with three windows." 

These ruins have no other name than that of the 
mountain on the slopes of which they are located. 
Had this place been occupied uninterruptedly, like 
Cuzco and Ollantaytambo, Machu Picchu would 
have retained its ancient name, but during the cen- 
turies when it was abandoned, its name was lost. 
Examination showed that it was essentially a forti- 
fied place, a remote fastness protected by natural 
bulwarks, of which man took advantage to create 
the most impregnable stronghold in the Andes. 
Our subsequent excavations and the clearing made 
in 1912, to be described in a subsequent volume, has 
shown that this was the chief place in Uilcapampa. 


I — ^ It did not take an expert to realiz e, from th e 
/ glimpse of Machu Picchu on that rainy day. in July, 
/ 191 1, when Sergeant Carrasco and I first saw it, 
1 that here were most extraordinary and interesting 
j ruins. Although the ridge had been partly cleared 
by the Indians for their fields of maize, so much of it 
was still underneath a thick jungle growth — some 
walls were actually supporting trees ten and twelve 
inches in diameter — that it was impossible to 
determine just what would be found here. As soon 
as I could get hold of Mr. Tucker, who was assisting 
Mr. Hendriksen, and Mr. Lanius, who had gone 
down the Urubamba with Dr. Bowman, I asked 
them to make a map of the ruins. I knew it would be 
a difficult undertaking and that it was essential for 
Mr. Tucker to join me in Arequipa not later than 
the first of October for the ascent of Coropuna. 
With the hearty aid of Richarte and Alvarez, the 
surveyors did better than I expected. In the ten 
days while they were at the ruins they were able 
to secure data from which Mr. Tucker afterwards 
prepared a map which told better than could any 
words of mine the importance of this site and the 
necessity for further investigation. 

With the possible exception of one mining pros- 
pector, no one in Cuzco had seen the ruins of Machu 
Picchu or appreciated their importance. No one 
had any realization of what an extraordinary place 
lay on top of the ridge. It had never been visited 
by any of the planters of the lower Urubamba 
Valley who annually passed over the road which 
winds through the canyon two thousand feet below. 


It seems incredible that this citadel, less than 
three days' journey from Cuzco, should have re- 
mained so long undescribed by travelers and com- 
paratively unknown even to the Peruvians them- 
selves. If the conquistador es ever saw this wonderful 
place, some reference to it surely would have been 
made; yet nothing can be found which clearly re- 
fers to the ruins of Machu Picchu. Just when it was 
first seen by a Spanish-speaking person is uncertain. 
When the Count de Sartiges was at Huadquiiia in 
1834 he was looking for ruins; yet, although so near, 
he heard of none here. From a crude scrawl on the 
walls of one of the finest buildings, we learned that 
the ruins were visited in 1902 by Lizarraga, lessee 
of the lands immediately below the bridge of San 
Miguel. This is the earliest local record. Yet some 
one must have visited Machu Picchu long before 
that; because in 1875, as has been said, the French 
explorer Charles Wiener heard in Ollantaytambo 
of there being ruins at "Huaina- Picchu or Matcho- 
Picchu." He tried to find them. That he failed was 
due to there being no road through the canyon of 
Torontoy and the necessity of making a wide detour 
through the pass of Panticalla and the Lucumayo 
Valley, a route which brought him to the Urubamba 
River at the bridge of Chuquichaca, twenty-five 
miles below Machu Picchu. 

It was not until 1890 that the Peruvian Govern- 
ment, recognizing the needs of the enterprising 
planters who were opening up the lower valley of 
the Urubamba, decided to construct a mule trail 
along the banks of the river through the grand 

i^C ■ '^^5^d:%fe/. 


canyon to enable the much-desired coca and aguar- 
diente to be shipped from Huadquifia, Maranura, 
and Santa Ana to Cuzco more quickly and cheaply 
than formerly. This road avoids the necessity of 
carrying the precious cargoes over the dangerous 
snowy passes of Mt. Veronica and Mt. Salcantay, 
so vividly described by Raimondi, de Sartiges, and 
others. The road, however, was very expensive, 
took years to build, and still requires frequent repair. 
In fact, even to-day travel over it is often suspended 
for several days or weeks at a time, following some 
tremendous avalanche. Yet it was this new road 
which had led Melchor Arteaga to build his hut 
near the arable land at Mandor Pampa, where he 
could raise food for his family and offer rough shelter 
to passing travelers. It was this new road which 
brought Richarte, Alvarez, and their enterprising 
friends into this little-known region, gave them 
the opportunity of occupying the ancient terraces of 
Machu Picchu, which had lain fallow for centuries, 
encouraged them to keep open a passable trail over 
the precipices, and made it feasible for us to reach 
the ruins. It was this new road which offered us in 
191 1 a virgin field between Ollantaytambo and 
Huadquifia and enabled us to learn that the Incas, 
or their predecessors, had once lived here in the 
remote fastnesses of the Andes, and had left stone 
witnesses of the magnificence and beauty of their 
ancient civilization, more interesting and extensive 
than any which have been found since the days of 
the Spanish Conquest of Peru. 



SOME Other day I hope to tell of the work of 
clearing and excavating Machu Picchu, of the 
life lived by its citizens, and of the ancient towns of 
which it was the most important. At present I must 
rest content with a discussion of its probable iden- 
tity. Here was a powerful citadel tenable against 
all odds, a stronghold where a mere handful of de- 
fenders could prevent a great army from taking the 
place by assault. Why should any one have desired 
to be so secure from capture as to have built a 
fortress in such an inaccessible place? 

The builders were not in search of fields. There 
is so little arable land here that every square yard 
of earth had to be terraced in order to provide 
food for the inhabitants. They were not looking for 
comfort or convenience. Safety was their primary 
consideration. They were sufficiently civilized to 
practice intensive agriculture, sufficiently skillful 
to equal the best masonry the world has ever seen, 
sufficiently ingenious to make delicate bronzes, and 
sufficiently advanced in art to realize the beauty 
of simplicity. What could have induced such a peo- 
ple to select this remote fastness of the Andes, with 
all its disadvantages, as the site for their capital, 
unless they were fleeing from powerful enemies. 

The thought will already have occurred to the 


reader that the Temple of the Three Windows at 
Machu PIcchu fits the words of that native writer 
who had "heard from a child the most ancient 
traditions and histories," including the story al- 
ready quoted from Sir Clements Markham's trans- 
lation that Manco Ccapac, the first Inca, "ordered 
works to be executed at the place of his birth; con- 
sisting of a masonry wall with three windows, which 
were emblems of the house of his fathers whence he 
descended. The first window was called 'Tampu- 
tocco.'" Although none of the other chroniclers 
gives the story of the first Inca ordering a memorial 
wall to be built at the place of his birth, they nearly 
all tell of his having come from a place called 
Tampu-tocco, "an inn or country place remarkable 
for its windows." Sir Clements Markham, in his 
" Incas of Peru," refers to Tampu-tocco as "the hill 
with the three openings or windows." 

The place assigned by all the chroniclers as the 
location of the traditional Tampu-tocco, as has been 
said, is Paccaritampu, about nine miles southwest of 
Cuzco. Paccaritampu has some interesting ruins 
and caves, but careful examination shows that while 
there are more than three openings to its caves, 
there are no windows in its buildings. The build- 
ings of Machu Picchu, on the other hand, have far 
more windows than any other important ruin in 
Peru. The climate of Paccaritampu, like that of 
most places in the highlands, is too severe to invite 
or encourage the use of windows. The climate 
of Machu Picchu is mild, consequently the use of 
windows was natural and agreeable. 


So far as I know, there is no place in Peru where 
the ruins consist of anything Hke a "masonry wall 
with three windows" of such a ceremonial character 
as is here referred to, except at Machu Picchu. 
It would certainly seem as though the Temple of 
the Three Windows, the most significant structure 
within the citadel, is the building referred to by 
Pachacuti Yamqui Salcamayhua. 

The principal difficulty with this theory is that 
while the first meaning of tocco in Holguin's stand- 
ard Quichua dictionary is ^'ventana'' or "window," 
and while "window" is the only meaning given this 
important word in Markham's revised Quichua 
dictionary (1908), a dictionary compiled from many 
sources, the second meaning of tocco given by Hol- 
guin is *'alacena," "a cupboard set in a wall." Un- 
doubtedly this means what we call, in the ruins of 
the houses of the Incas, a niche. Now the drawings, 
crude as they are, in Sir Clements Markham's 
translation of the Salcamayhua manuscript, do give 
the impression of niches rather than of windows. 
Does Tampu-tocco mean a tampu remarkable for Its 
niches? At Paccari tampu there do not appear to be 
any particularly fine niches; while at Machu Picchu, 
on the other hand, there are many very beautiful 
niches, especially in the cave which has been re- 
ferred to as a "Royal Mausoleum." As a matter of 
fact, nearly all the finest ruins of the Incas have 
excellent niches. Since niches were so common a 
feature of Inca architecture, the chances are that 
Sir Clements is right in translating Salcamayhua as 
he did and in calling Tampu-tocco "the hill with 


the three openings or windows." In any case Machu 
Picchu fits the story far better than does Paccari- 
tampu. However, in view of the fact that the early 
writers all repeat the story that Tampu-tocco was 
at Paccaritampu, it would be absurd to say that 
they did not know what they were talking about, 
even though the actual remains at or near Paccari- 
tampu do not fit the requirements. 

It would be easier to adopt Paccaritampu as the 
site of Tampu-tocco were it not for the legal records 
of an inquiry made by Toledo at the time when he 
put the last Inca to death. Fifteen Indians, de- 
scended from those who used to live near Las 
Salinas, the important salt works near Cuzco, on 
being questioned, agreed that they had heard their 
fathers and grandfathers repeat the tradition that 
when the first Inca, Manco Ccapac, captured their 
lands, he came from Tampu-tocco. They did not 
say that the first Inca came from Paccaritampu, 
which, it seems to me, would have been a most 
natural thing for them to have said if this were the 
general belief of the natives. In addition there is the 
still older testimony of some Indians born before 
the arrival of the first Spaniards, who were examined 
at a legal investigation in 1570. A chief, aged ninety- 
two, testified that Manco Ccapac came out of a cave 
called Tocco, and that he was lord of the town near 
that cave. Not one of the witnesses stated that 
Manco Ccapac came from Paccaritampu, although 
it is difficult to imagine why they should not have 
done so if, as the contemporary historians believed, 
this was really the original Tampu-tocco. The 


chroniclers were willing enough to accept the inter- 
esting cave near Paccaritampu as the place where 
Manco Ccapac was born, and from which he came 
to conquer Cuzco. Why were the sworn witnesses 
so reticent? It seems hardly possible that they 
should have forgotten where Tampu-tocco was 
supposed to have been. Was their reticence due to 
the fact that Its actual whereabouts had been suc- 
cessfully kept secret? Manco Ccapac's home was 
that Tampu-tocco to which the followers of Pacha- 
cuti VI fled with his body after the overthrow of the 
old regime, a very secluded and holy place. Did 
they know it was in the same fastnesses of the 
Andes to which in the days of Pizarro the young 
Inca Manco had fled from Cuzco? Was this the 
cause of their reticence? 

Certainly the requirements of Tampu-tocco are 
met at Machu Picchu. The splendid natural de- 
fenses of the Grand Canyon of the Urubamba made 
it an ideal refuge for the descendants of the Amautas 
during the centuries of lawlessness and confusion 
which succeeded the barbarian invasions from the 
plains to the east and south. The scarcity of violent 
earthquakes and also its healthfulness, both marked 
characteristics of Tampu-tocco, are met at Machu 
Picchu. It is worth noting that the existence of 
Machu Picchu might easily have been concealed 
from the common people. At the time of the Span- 
ish Conquest its location might have been known 
only to the Inca and his priests. 

So, notwithstanding the belief of the historians, I 
feel it is reasonable to conclude that the first name 


of the ruins at Machu Picchu was Tampu-tocco. 
Here Pachacuti VI was buried; here was the capital 
of the little kingdom where during the centuries 
between the Amautas and the Incas there was kept 
alive the wisdom, skill, and best traditions of the 
ancient folk who had developed the civilization of 

It is well to remember that the defenses of Cuzco 
were of little avail before the onslaught of the war- 
like invaders. The great organization of farmers 
and masons, so successful in its ability to perform 
mighty feats of engineering with primitive tools of 
wood, stone, and bronze, had crumbled away before 
the attacks of savage hordes who knew little of the 
arts of peace. The defeated leaders had to choose 
a region where they might live in safety from their 
fierce enemies. Furthermore, in the environs of 
Machu Picchu they found every variety of climate 
— valleys so low as to produce the precious coca^ 
yucca, and plantain, the fruits and vegetables of the 
tropics ; slopes high enough to be suitable for many 
varieties of maize, quinoa, and other cereals, as well 
as their favorite root crops, including both sweet 
and white potatoes, oca, anu, and ullucu. Here, 
within a few hours' journey, they could find days 
warm enough to dry and cure the coca leaves ; nights 
cold enough to freeze potatoes in the approved 
aboriginal fashion. 

Although the amount of arable land which could 
be made available with the most careful terracing 
was not large enough to support a very great popu- 
lation, Machu Picchu offered an impregnable citadel 


to the chiefs and priests and their handful of fol- 
lowers who were obliged to flee from the rich plains 
near Cuzco and the broad, pleasant valley of Yucay. 
Only dire necessity and terror could have forced a 
people which had reached such a stage in engineer- 
ing, architecture, and agriculture, to leave hospitable 
valleys and tablelands for rugged canyons. Cer- 
tainly there is no part of the Andes less fitted by 
nature to meet the requirements of an agricultural 
folk, unless their chief need was a safe refuge and 

Here the wise remnant of the Amautas ultimately 
developed great ability. In the face of tremendous 
natural obstacles they utilized their ancient craft to 
wrest a living from the soil. Hemmed in between 
the savages of the Amazon jungles below and their 
enemies on the plateau above, they must have car- 
ried on border warfare for generations. Aided by 
the temperate climate in which they lived, and the 
ability to secure a wide variety of food within a few 
hours' climb up or down from their towns and 
cities, they became a hardy, vigorous tribe which in 
the course of time burst its boundaries, fought its 
way back to the rich Cuzco Valley, overthrew the 
descendants of the ancient invaders and established, 
with Cuzco as a capital, the Empire of the Incas. 

After the first Inca, Manco Ccapac, had estab- 
lished himself in Cuzco, what more natural than 
that he should have built a fine temple in honor of 
his ancestors. Ancestor worship was common to the 
Incas, and nothing would have been more reason- 
able than the construction of the Temple of the 


Three Windows. As the Incas grew in power and 
extended their rule over the ancient empire of the 
Cuzco Amautas from whom they traced their de- 
scent, superstitious regard would have led them to 
establish their chief temples and palaces in the city 
of Cuzco itself. There was no longer any necessity 
to maintain the citadel of Tampu-tocco. It was 
probably deserted, while Cuzco grew and the Inca 
Empire flourished. 

As the Incas increased in power they invented 
various myths to account for their origin. One of 
these traced their ancestry to the islands of Lake 
Titicaca. Finally the very location of Manco 
Ccapac's birthplace was forgotten by the common 
people — although undoubtedly known to the priests 
and those who preserved the most sacred secrets of 
the Incas. 

Then came Pizarro and the bigoted conquista- 
dores. The native chiefs faced the necessity of saving 
whatever was possible of the ancient religion. The 
Spaniards coveted gold and silver. The most pre- 
cious possessions of the Incas, however, were not 
images and utensils, but the sacred Virgins of the 
Sun, who, like the Vestal Virgins of Rome, were 
from their earliest childhood trained to the service 
of the great Sun God. Looked at from the stand- 
point of an agricultural people who needed the sun 
to bring their food crops to fruition and keep them 
from hunger, it was of the utmost importance to 
placate him with sacrifices and secure the good 
effects of his smiling face. If he delayed his coming 
or kept himself hidden behind the clouds, the maize 


would mildew and the ears would not properly 
ripen. If he did not shine with his accustomed 
brightness after the harvest, the ears of corn could 
not be properly dried and kept over to the next 
year. In short, any unusual behavior on the part of 
the sun meant hunger and famine. Consequently 
their most beautiful daughters were consecrated to 
his service, as "Virgins" who lived in the temple 
and ministered to the wants of priests and rulers. 
Human sacrifice had long since been given up in 
Peru and its place taken by the consecration of these 
damsels. Some of the Virgins of the Sun in Cuzco 
were captured. Others escaped and accompanied 
Manco into the inaccessible canyons of Uilcapampa. 
It will be remembered that Father Calancha 
relates the trials of the first two missionaries in 
this region, who at the peril of their lives urged the 
Inca to let them visit the "University of Idolatry," 
at "Vilcabamba Viejo," "the largest city" in the 
province. Machu Picchu admirably answers its re- 
quirements. Here it would have been very easy for 
the Inca Titu Cusi to have kept the monks in the 
vicinity of the Sacred City for three weeks without 
their catching a single glimpse of its unique temples 
and remarkable palaces. It would have been possi- 
ble for Titu Cusi to bring Friar Marcos and Friar 
Diego to the village of Intihuatana near San Miguel, 
at the foot of the Machu Picchu cliffs. The sugar 
planters of the lower Urubamba Valley crossed the 
bridge of San Miguel annually for twenty years in 
blissful ignorance of what lay on top of the ridge 
above them. So the friars might easily have been 


lodged in huts at the foot of the mountain without 
their being aware of the extent and importance of 
the Inca "university." Apparently they returned 
to Puquiura with so little knowledge of the archi- 
tectural character of "Vilcabamba Viejo" that no 
description of it could be given their friends, even- 
tually to be reported by Calancha. Furthermore, 
the difficult journey across country from Puquiura 
might easily have taken "three days." 

Finally, it appears from Dr, Eaton's studies that 
the last residents of Machu Picchu itself were 
mostly women. In the burial caves which we have 
found in the region roundabout Machu Picchu the 
proportion of skulls belonging to men is very large. 
There are many so-called "trepanned " skulls. Some 
of them seem to belong to soldiers injured in war by 
having their skulls crushed in, either with clubs or 
the favorite sling-stones of the Incas, In no case 
have we found more than twenty-five skulls without 
encountering some "trepanned" specimens among 
them. In striking contrast is the result of the exca- 
vations at Machu Picchu, where one hundred sixty- 
four skulls were found in the burial caves, yet not 
one had been "trepanned." Of the one hundred 
thirty-five skeletons whose sex could be accurately 
determined by Dr. Eaton, one hundred nine were 
females. Furthermore, it was in the graves of the 
females that the finest artifacts were found, showing 
that they were persons of no little importance. Not 
a single representative of the robust male of the 
warrior type was found in the burial caves of 
Machu Picchu. 


Another striking fact brought out by Dr. Eaton 
is that some of the female skeletons represent 
individuals from the seacoast. This fits in with 
Calancha's statement that Titu Cusi tempted the 
monks not only with beautiful women of the high- 
lands, but also with those who came from the tribes 
of the Yungas, or "warm valleys." The "warm 
valleys" may be those of the rubber country, but 
Sir Clements Markham thought the oases of the 
coast were meant. 

Furthermore, as Mr. Safford has pointed out, 
among the artifacts discovered at Machu Picchu 
was a "snuffing tube" intended for use with the 
narcotic snuff which was employed by the priests 
and necromancers to induce a hypnotic state. This 
powder was made from the seeds of the tree which 
the Incas called huilca or uilca, which, as has been 
pointed out in Chapter XI, grows near these ruins. 
This seems to me to furnish additional evidence 
of the identity of Machu Picchu with Calancha's 

It cannot be denied that the ruins of Machu 
Picchu satisfy the requirements of "the largest city, 
in which was the University of Idolatry." Until 
some one can find the ruins of another important 
place within three days' journey of Pucyura which 
was an important religious center and whose skeletal 
remains are chiefly those of women, I am inclined 
to believe that this was the "Vilcabamba Viejo" of 
Calancha, just as Espiritu Pampa was the "Vilca- 
bamba Viejo" of Ocampo. 

In the interesting account of the last Incas pur- 


porting to be by Titu Cusi, but actually written in 
excellent Spanish by Friar Marcos, he says that his 
father, Manco, fleeing from Cuzco went first "to 
Vilcabamba, the head of all that province." 

In the "Anales del Peru" Montesinos says that 
Francisco Pizarro, thinking that the Inca Manco 
wished to make peace with him, tried to please the 
Inca by sending him a present of a very fine pony 
and a mulatto to take care of it. In place of re- 
warding the messenger, the Inca killed both man 
and beast. When Pizarro was informed of this, he 
took revenge on Manco by cruelly abusing the Inca's 
favorite wife, and putting her to death. She begged 
of her attendants that "when she should be dead 
they would put her remains in a basket and let it 
float down the Yucay [or Urubamba] River, that the 
current might take it to her husband, the Inca." 
She must have believed that at that time Manco 
was near this river. Machu Picchu is on its banks. 
Espiritu Pampa is not. 

We have already seen how Manco finally estab- 
lished himself at Uiticos, where he restored in some 
degree the fortunes of his house. Surrounded by 
fertile valleys, not too far removed from the great 
highway which the Spaniards were obliged to use in 
passing from Lima to Cuzco, he could readily attack 
them. At Machu Picchu he would not have been so 
conveniently located for robbing the Spanish cara- 
vans nor for supplying his followers with arable 

There is abundant archeologlcal evidence that the 
citadel of Machu Picchu was at one time occupied 


by the Incas and partly built by them on the ruins 
of a far older city. Much of the pottery is unques- 
tionably of the so-called Cuzco style, used by the 
last Incas. The more recent buildings resemble 
those structures on the island of Titicaca said to 
have been built by the later Incas. They also re- 
semble the fortress of Uiticos, at Rosaspata, built 
by Manco about 1537. Furthermore, they are by 
far the largest and finest ruins in the mountains 
of the old province of Uilcapampa and represent 
the place which would naturally be spoken of by 
Titu Cusi as the "head of the province." Espiritu 
Pampa does not satisfy the demands of a place 
which was so important as to give its name to the en- 
tire province, to be referred to as "the largest city." 

It seems quite possible that the inaccessible, for- 
gotten citadel of Machu Picchu was the place chosen 
by Manco as the safest refuge for those Virgins of 
the Sun who had successfully escaped from Cuzco in 
the days of Pizarro. For them and their attendants 
Manco probably built many of the newer buildings 
and repaired some of the older ones. Here they 
lived out their days, secure in the knowledge that 
no Indians would ever breathe to the conquistadores 
the secret of their sacred refuge. 

When the worship of the sun actually ceased 
on the heights of Machu Picchu no one can tell. 
That the secret of its existence was so well kept is 
one of the marvels of Andean history. Unless one 
accepts the theories of its identity with "Tampu- 
tocco" and "Vilcabamba Vie jo," there is no clear 
reference to Machu Picchu until 1875, when Charles 
Wiener heard about it. 




Some day we may be able to find a reference in one 
of the documents of the sixteenth or seventeenth 
centuries which will indicate that the energetic 
Viceroy Toledo, or a contemporary of his, knew of 
this marvelous citadel and visited it. Writers like 
Cieza de Leon and Polo de Ondegardo, who were 
assiduous in collecting information about all the 
holy places of the Incas, give the names of many 
places which as yet we have not been able to identify. 
Among them we may finally recognize the temples 
of Machu Picchu. On the other hand, it seems 
likely that if any of the Spanish soldiers, priests, or 
other chroniclers had seen this citadel, they would 
have described its chief edifices in unmistakable 

Until further light can be thrown on this fascinat- 
ing problem it seems reasonable to conclude that at 
Machu Picchu we have the ruins of Tampu-tocco, 
the birthplace of the first Inca, Manco Ccapac, and 
also the ruins of a sacred city of the last Incas. 
Surely this granite citadel, which has made such a 
strong appeal to us on account of its striking beauty 
and the indescribable charm of its surroundings, 
appears to have had a most interesting history. Se- 
lected about 800 A.D. as the safest place of refuge 
for the last remnants of the old regime fleeing from 
southern invaders, it became the site of the capital of 
a new kingdom, and gave birth to the most remarka- 
ble family which South America has ever seen. Aban- 
doned, about 1300, when Cuzco once more flashed 
into glory as the capital of the Peruvian Empire, it 
seems to have been again sought out in time of 


trouble, when in 1534 another foreign invader ar« 
rived — this time from Europe — with a burning 
desire to extinguish all vestiges of the ancient re- 
ligion. In its last state it became the home and 
refuge of the Virgins of the Sun, priestesses of the 
most humane cult of aboriginal America. Here, 
concealed in a canyon of remarkable grandeur, pro- 
tected by art and nature, these consecrated women 
gradually passed away, leaving no known descend- 
ants, nor any records other than the masonry walls 
and artifacts to be described in another volume. 
Whoever they were, whatever name be finally as- 
signed to this site by future historians, of this I feel 
sure — that few romances can ever surpass that of 
the granite citadel on top of the beetling precipices 
of Machu Picchu, the crown of Inca Land. 




Afiu: A species of nasturtium 
with edible roots. 

Aryballus: A bottle-shaped vase 
with pointed bottom. 

Azequia: An irrigation ditch or 

Bar-hold: A stone cylinder or 
pin, let into a gatepost in 
such a way as to permit the 
gate bar to be tied to it. 
Sometimes the bar-hold is 
part of one of the ashlars of 
the gatepost. Bar-holds are 
usually found in the gateway 
of a compound or group of 
Inca houses. 

Coca: Shrub from which co- 
caine is extracted. The 
dried leaves are chewed to 
secure the desired deadening 
effect of the drug. 

Conquistadores: Spanish soldiers 
engaged in the conquest of 

Eye-bonder: A narrow, rough 
ashlar in one end of which a 
chamfered hole has been cut. 
Usually about 2 feet long, 6 
inches wide, and 2 inches 
thick, it was bonded into 
the wall of a gable at right 
angles to its slope and flush 
with its surface. To it the 
purlins of the roof could be 
fastened. Eye-bonders are 
also found projecting above 
the lintel of a gateway to 
a compound. If the "bar- 
holds " were intended to 
secure the horizontal bar of 

an important gate, these eye- 
bonders may have been for 
a vertical bar. 

Gobemador: The Spanish-speak- 
ing town magistrate. The 
alcaldes are his Indian aids. 

Habas beans : Broad beans. 

Huaca: A sacred or holy place or 
thing, sometimes a boulder. 
Often applied to a piece of 
prehistoric pottery. 

Ma&ana: To-morrow, or by and 
by. The "manana habit" is 
Spanish-American procrasti- 

Mestizo: A half-breed of Spanish 
and Indian ancestry. 

Milpa: A word used in Central 
America for a small farm or 
clearing. The milpa system 
of agriculture involves clear- 
ing the forest by fire, destroys 
valuable humus and forces 
the farmer to seek new fields 

Montana: Jungle, forest. The 
term usually applied by Pe- 
ruvians to the heavily for- 
ested slopes of the Eastern 
Andean valleys and the 
Amazon Basin. 

Oca: Hardy, edible root, related 
to sheep sorrel. 

Quebrada: A gorge or ravine. 

Quipu: Knotted, parti-colored 
strings used by the ancient 
Peruvians to keep records. A 
mnemonic device. 

Roof-peg: A roughly cylindrical 
block of stone bonded into 



a gable wall and allowed to 
project 12 or 15 inches on the 
outside. Used in connection 
with " eye-bonders," the roof- 
pegs served as points to which 
the roof could be tied down. 

Sol: Peruvian silver dollar, worth 
about two shillings or a lit- 
tle less than half a gold dol- 

Soroche: Mountain-sickness. 

Stone-peg: A roughly cylindrical 
block of stone bonded into 
the walls of a house and pro- 
jecting 10 or 12 inches on the 
inside so as to permit of its 
being used as a clothes-peg. 
Stone-pegs are often found 
alternating with niches and 

placed on a level with the 
lintels of the niches. 

Temblor: A slight earthquake. 

Temporales: Small fields of grain 
which cannot be irrigated 
and so depend on the weather 
for their moisture. 

Teniente gobernador: Adminis- 
trative officer of a small 
village or hamlet. 

Terremoto: A severe earthquake. 

Tesoro: Treasure. 

Tutu: A hardy variety of white 
potato not edible in a fresh 
state, used for making chuiio, 
after drying, freezing, and 
pressing out the bitter juices. 

UUuca: An edible root. 

Viejo: Old. 





Thomas Barbour: 

Reptiles Collected by Yale Peruvian Expedition of 1912. Pro- 
ceedings of Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia, Lxv, 
505-507. September, 1913. i pi. 
(With G. K. Noble:) 
Amphibians and Reptiles from Southern Peru Collected by 
Peruvian Expedition of 19 14-19 15. Proceedings of U.S. Na- 
tional Museum, LViii, 609-620, 192 1. 

Hiram Bingham: 

The Ruins of Choqquequirau. American Anthropologist, xii, 

505-525, October, 1910. lUus., 4 pi., map. 
Across South America. Boston, Houghton Mifflin Company, 

1911, xvi, 405 pp., plates, maps, plans, 8°. 
Preliminary Report of the Yale Peruvian Expedition. Bulletin 

of American Geographical Society, XLiv, 20-26, January, 1912. 
The Ascent of Coropuna. Harper's Magazine, cxxiv, 489-502, 

March, 1912. Illus. 
Vitcos, The Last Inca Capital. Proceedings of American Anti- 
quarian Society, xxii, N.S., 135-196. April, 1912. Illus., plans. 
The Discovery of Pre-Historic Human Remains near Cuzco, 

Peru. American Journal of Science, xxxiii, No. 196, 297-305, 

April, 1912. Illus., maps. 
A Search for the Last Inca Capital. Harper's Magazine, cxxv, 

696-705, October, 1912. Illus. 
The Discovery of Machu Picchu. Ibid., CXXVl, 709-719, April, 

1913. Illus. 
In the Wonderland of Peru. National Geographic Magazine, 

XXIV, 387-573, April, 1913. Illus., maps, plans. 
The Investigation of Pre-Historic Human Remains Found near 

Cuzco in 1911. American Journal of Science, xxxvi. No. 211, 

1-2, July, 1913. 
The Ruins of Espiritu Pampa, Peru. American Anthropologist, 

XVI, No. 2, 185-199. April-June, 1914. Illus., I pi., map. 
Along the Uncharted Pampaconas. Harper's Magazine, cxxix, 

452-463, August, 1914. Illus., map. 


The Pampaconas River. The Geographical Journal, XLiv, 211- 

214, August, 1914. 2 pi., map. 
The Story of Machu Picchu. National Geographic Magazine, 

XXVII, 172-217, February, 1915. Illus. 
Types of Machu Picchu Pottery. American Anthropologist, xvii, 

257-271, April-June, 1915. Illus., i pi. 
The Inca Peoples and Their Culture. Proceedings of Nineteenth 

International Congress of Americanists,V\\ngton, D.C., pp. 

253-260, December, 1915. 
Further Explorations in the Land of the Incas. National Geo- 
graphic Magazine, xxix, 431-473, May, 1916. Illus., 2 maps. 
Evidences of Symbolism in the Land of the Incas. The Builder, 

II, No. 12, 361-366, December, 1916. Illus. 
.(With Dr. George S. Jamieson:) 

Lake Parinacochas and the Composition of its Water. American 

Journal of Science, xxxiv, 12-16, July, 1912. Illus. 

Isaiah Bowman: 

The Geologic Relations of the Cuzco Remains. American Jour- 
nal of Science, xxxiii. No. 196, 306-325, April, 1912. Illus. 

A Buried Wall at Cuzco and its Relation to the Question of a 
Pre- Inca Race. Ibid., xxxiv, No. 204, 497-509, December, 
1912. Illus. 

The Canon of the Urubamba. Bulletin of American Geographical 
Society, XLiv, 881-897, December, 1912. Illus., map. 

The Andes of Southern Peru. Geographical Reconnaissance 
Along the Seventy-third Meridian, N.Y., Henry Holt, 1916. 
xi, 336 pp., plates, maps, plans. 

Lawrence Bruner: 

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 191 1, Orthoptera 
(Acridiidae — Short Horned Locusts). Proceedings of U.S. Na- 
tional Museum, xliv, 177-187, 1913. 

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 191 1, Orthoptera (Ad- 
denda to the Acridiidae). Ibid., xlv, 585-586, 1913. 

A. N. Caudell: 

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 191 1, Orthoptera (Ex- 
clusive of Acridiidae). Proceedings of U.S. National Museum, 
XLIV, 347-357, 1913- 
Ralph V. Chamberlain: 

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 191 1. The Arachnida. 
Bulletin of Museum of Comparative Zoology at Harvard Col- 
lege, LX, No. 6, 177-299, 1916. 25 pj 

Frank M. Chapman: 

The Distribution of Bird Life in the Urubamba Valley of Peru. 
U.S. National Museum Bulletin 117, 138 pp., 1921. 9 pi., map. 


Descriptions of Proposed New Birds from Peru, Bolivia, Argen- 
tina, and Chile. Bulletin of American Museum of Natural 
History, XLi, Art. v, 323-333, September, 1919. 

O. F. Cook: 

Quichua Names of Sweet Potatoes. Journal of Washington 

Academy of Sciences, vi. No. 4, 86-90, 1916. 
Agriculture and Native Vegetation in Peru. Ibid., vi. No. 10, 

284-293, 1916. Illus. 
Staircase Farms of the Ancients. National Geographic Magazine, 

XXIX, 474-534, May, 191 6. Illus. 
Foot-Plow Agriculture in Peru. Smithsonian Report for 1918, 

487-491. 4 pi. 
Domestication of Animals in Peru. Journal of Heredity, x, 176- 
181, April, 1919. Illus. 
(With Alice C. Cook:) 
Polar Bear Cacti. Journal of Heredity, Washington, D.C, viii, 
1 13-120, March, 1917. Illus. 

William H. Dall: 

Some Landshells Collected by Dr. Hiram Bingham in Peru. 
Proceedings of U.S. National Museum, xxxviii, 177-182, 191 1. 
Reports on Landshells Collected in Peru in 191 1 by The Yale 
Expedition. Smithsonian Misc. Collections, nx, No. 14, 12 pp., 

Harrison G. Dyar: 

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 191 1. Lepidoptera. 
Proceedings of U.S. National Museum, xlv, 627-649, 1913. 

George F. Eaton. 

Report on the Remains of Man and Lower Animals from the 

Vicinity of Cuzco. American Journal of Science, xxxiii, No. 

196, 325-333, April, 1912. Illus. 
Vertebrate Remains in the Cuzco Gravels. Ibid., xxxvi, No. 

211, 3-14, July, 1913. Illus. 
Vertebrate Fossils from Ayusbamba, Peru. Ibid., xxxvil, No. 

218, 141-154, February, 1914. 3 pi. 
The Collection of Osteological Material from Machu Picchu. 

Trans. Conn. Academy Arts and Sciences, v, 3-96, May, 191 6. 

Illus., 39 pi., map. 

William G. Erving, M.D.: 

Medical Report of the Yale Peruvian Expediton. Yale Medical 
Journal, xviii, 325-335, April, 1912. 6 pi. 

Alexander W^ Evans: 

Hepaticae: Yale Peruvian Expedition of 1911. Trans. Conn. 
Academy Arts and Sciences, xviii, 291-345, April, 1914. 


Harry B. Ferris, M.D.: 

The Indians of Cuzco and the Apurimac. Memoirs, American 
Anthropological Assoc, iii, No. 2, 59-148, 1916. 60 pi. 

Anthropological Studies on the Quichua and Machiganga In- 
dians. Trans. Conn. Academy Arts and Sciences, xxv, 1-92, 
April, 1921. 21 pi., map. 

Harry W. Foote: 
(With W. H. Buell:) 
The Composition, Structure and Hardness of some Peruvian 
Bronze Axes. American Journal of Science, xxxiv, 128-132, 
August, 1912. Illus, 

Herbert E. Gregory: 

The Gravels at Cuzco. American Journal of Science, xxxvi. No. 
211, 15-29, July, 1913. Illus., map. 

The La Paz Gorge. Ibid., xxxvi, 141-150, August, 1913. Illus. 

A Geographical Sketch of Titicaca, the Island of the Sun. Bul- 
letin of American Geographical Society, XLV, 561-575, August, 
1913. 4 pi., map. 

Geologic Sketch of Titicaca Island and Adjoining Areas. Ameri- 
can Jotirnal of Science, xxxvi, No. 213, 187-213, September, 
1913. Illus., maps. 

Geologic Reconnaissance of the Ayusbamba Fossil Beds. Ibid., 
XXXVII, No. 218, 125-140, February, 1914. Illus., map. 

The Rodadero; A Fault Plane of Unusual Aspect. Ibid., xxxvii, 
No. 220, 289-298, April, 1914. Illus. 

A Geologic Reconnaissance of the Cuzco Valley. Ibid., XLI, No. 
241, i-ioo, January, 1916. Illus., maps. 

Osgood Hardy: 

Cuzco and Apurimac. Bulletin of American Geographical Society, 

XLVi, No. 7, 500-512, 1914. Illus., map. 
The Indians of the Department of Cuzco. American Anthropolo- 
gist, XXI, 1-27, January-March, 1919. 9 pi. 

Sir Clements Markham: 

Mr. Bingham in Vilcapampa, Geographical Journal, xxxviii. 
No. 6, 590-591, Dec. 1911, I pi. 

C. H. Mathewson: 

A Metallographic Description of Some Ancient Peruvian 
Bronzes from Machu Picchu. American Journal of Science, XL, 
No. 240, 525-602, December, 1915. Illus., plates. 

P. R. Myers: 

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 191 1 — Addendum to 
the Hymenoptera-Ichneumonoidea. Proceedings of U.S. Na- 
tional Museum, xlvii, 361-362, 1914. 


S. A, Rohwer: 

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 191 1 — Hymenoptera, 
Superfamilies Vespoidea and Sphecoidea. Proceedings of U.S. 
National Museum, XLiv, 439-454, 1913. 

Leonhard Stejneger: 

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 191 1. Batrachians and 
Reptiles. Proceedings of U.S. National Museum, XLV, 541-547, 

Oldfield Thomas: 

Report on the Mammalia Collected by Mr. Edmund Heller 
during Peruvian Expedition of 1915. Proceedings of U.S. Na- 
tional Museum, lviii, 217-249, 1920. 2 pi. 

H. L. Viereck: 

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 191 1. Hymenoptera- 
Ichneumonoidea. Proceedings of U.S. National Museum, XLiv, 
469-470, 1913. 

R. S. Williams: 

Peruvian Mosses. Bulletin of Torrey Botanical Club, XLiii, 323- 
334, June, 1916. 4 pi. 


Abancay, 183. 

Aconcagua, Mt., 3, 44. 

Adobe, 15, 129-132, 262. 

Agriculture, 19, 55, 62, 72, 119, 
121-125, 136, 144, 145, 148, 
204-206, 235, 256, 275, 282, 
283, 311, 319, 320, 326, 332- 


milpa, 293. 

Aguardiente, 18, 231, 325. 

Aguilar, Dr., 136, 137, 142. 

Ajochiucha, 63, 65. 

Alacena, 328. 

Alcaldes, 114, 115, 236. 

Almagro, 148, 170. 

Alpacas, 57, 63-65, 85, 120, 146, 
253, 258, 260. 

wool of, 61, 63-65, 69, 88, 

no, 174. 

Alvarez, 317, 323, 325. 

Amauta Empire, 1 18-120, Chap. 
XVI, passim, 330-333. 

Pachacuti VI, 118- 120, 306- 

308, 330, 331- 

Amazon, 116-117, 267. 

American flag, 39, 46, 58. 

American shoes, 18. 

Ancestor worship, 132, 246, 332. 

Andaray, 93. 

Andenes, 56, 246, 247. See Ter- 

Anderson, E. L., ix. 

Andes, 245. 

Aneroids, 21, 34, 37, 38, 44. 

Angostura Pass, 142, 143, 149. 

Anta, 159. 

Antabamba, province of, 51. 

Antis, 183, 245 

Ants, 300. 

Ann, 87, 331. 

Aplao, 17. 

Appalachian Mt. Club, 35, 46. 
Apurimac River bridge, i. 

valley, 185, 194, 232, 

253, 262, 269, 272, 273. 

Araranca, 116. 

Araucanians, 119. 

Architecture of Incas, 104, 105, 
130, 141, 142, 161, 211, 216, 
237, 239, 242, 293-295, 321, 
328, 33B. 

Arequipa, 7, 9, 66, 95. 

explosion and fire in, 95, 

Arma, Rio, 52. 
Arrieros, 7, 29, 30, 49, 72, 158. 

See Muleteers. 
Arteaga, Melchor, 215, 315, 316, 

319. 325- 
Aryballus, 287, 296. 
Ausangate, Mt., 137. 
Axes, Inca, 288. 
Ayacucho, 178, 253. 
Ayahuaycco quebrada, 149-151, 

Aymara peddlers, 106. 

secret societies, 107-108. 

Aymaras, 102, 106, 109. 
Azequias, 96, 139, 140, 143, 

Balsas, 97, 98, 196, 299. 
Banbaconas, 269. See Pampaco- 

Bandelier, Adolph, 2, 44, 49, 102, 

Bar-holds, 129, 211. 
Bassett, George, 75, 76. 
Bears, 212. 
Bees, 301. 

Bells, church, 113, 256. 
Benavides, Sr., 19, 94. 
Bestor, Paul, ix. 



Betanzos, John, 184. 
Birds, 77-79. 
Bison, 153, 155, 156. 
Biticos, 199. 
Blaisdell, L. S., x. 
Boat, folding, 75. 
Boats, balsas, 97, 98. 
Boba, 92. 
Bolas, 175, 310. 
Bones, Cuzco, 149-156. 

Machu Picchu, 335, 

Bowling-green, 181. 

Bowman, Dr. Isaiah, viii, 46, 51, 

53. 59, 60, 99, 150-154. 300, 323- 
Bull-baiting, 108, 109. 
Bulrushes, 97. 
Bumstead, Albert H., ix, 112, 154, 

225, 272. 
Burial places, 84, 92, 287, 320, 

328, 335- 
Butler, Ellis Parker, 274, 275. 

Cachimayo River, 148. 

Cacti, 66, 89, 136. 

Calancha, Father, 178, 179, 187, 
188, 191, 216, 221, 222, 246, 
248, 251, 253, 255, 263, 265, 
266, 297, 298, 334-336. 

Callanga ruins, 91-93. 

Canihua, 123. 

Caraveli Canyon, 89, 90. 

Cargador, 28. 

Carnegie Institution of Washing- 
ton, Dept. of Terrestrial Mag- 
netism, 21. 

Carrasco, Sergeant, 215, 278, 

Castelnau, 205, 208. 
Castilla, province of, 17. 
Caterpillars, 205, 302. 
Caves, 84, 246. 
Machu Picchu, 320, 328, 

Paccaritampu, 120, 313, 

327, 330. 
Titicaca Island, loi. 

Caves, Tocco, 329. 

CcUumayu, 221-223. 

Cerro Colorado, 16. 

Chachani, Mt., 95. 

Chacras, 256, 275, 282, 283, 293. 

Chamberlain, Dr. Ralph V., 224. 

Chancaca, 288. 

Chapman, Frank, 79, 126. 

Charaja, Ricardo, no. 

Chasguis, 207. 

Chauillay, 226, 227. 

Chicha, 114, 123, 185. 

Chichipampa, 65. 

Chincheros, 204. 

Chinchilla, 87. 

Chinchon, Count of, 118. 

Chinese folkways, 114. 

Choqquechacca Bridge, 201. See 

Choqquequirau, 1-3, 199, 202, 

220, 230, 232, 262, 298. 
Christoval de Albornoz, 238, 239. 
Chumpillo, Pampa of, 51. 
Chunchullumayo River, 149. 
Chiiiio, 25, 103, 280. 
Chuquibamba, 19, 23, 50-52, 75, 

Chuquichaca Bridge, 184, 194, 

195, 227, 228, 236. 
Chuquipalpa, 188-190, 197, 201, 

230, 246, 251. 
Chuquipalta, 247, 251. 
Cieza de Leon, 26, 51, 172, 173, 

Cists, burial, 92, 287. 
Climate, vii, 10, li, 19, 57, 62, 

102, 173, 205, 229, 254, 297, 

301, 327, 332. 
Coca, 231, 258, 259, 280, 293, 325, 

Coello, Prof. Alejandro, 19, 20, 

Chap. II, passim. 
Coenolestes, 212. 
Cohoba, 217, 218. 
Colcabamba, 72. 
Colcampata, 163, 164. 



Collas, 117. 

Colpani, 226, 282, 314. 

Colta, 66, 71, 72. 

Comberciato River, 300, 301. 

Commerce. See Trade. 

Community methods of labor, 

122, 123. 
Condesuyos, province of, 19. 
Condore, Manuel, 257, 268, 273- 

275. 277- 
Conquistadores, 160, 167, 324, 333. 
Conservidayoc, vii, 231, Chap. 

XIV, passim, 298, 304. 
Convencion, Province of, 200, 

Conway, Sir Martin, 33. 
Cook, O. F., ix, 55, 112, 113, 121, 

124, 143, 217, 317. 
Copacabana fair, 106-109. 
Cordillera Real, 105. 
Coribeni River, 300. 
Corihuayrachina, 213. 
Coriri, 17. 
Coropuna, Mt., 2, 3, 12, 14, 16, 

20, 22, Chap. II, passim, 88, 


altitude of, 2, 3, 44, 45, 49. 

devils, 26. 

east peak, 45. 

latitude and longitude, 49. 

north peak, 41, 42, 44. 

record left on, 46. 

temperature, 37, 38, 45. 

top of, 42-45. 51-53. 62. 

Cosireni River, 273, 300-302. 

Cotahuasi, 51, 55, 57, 59, 60. 

"Cradle of Gold," 202. 

Crampons, 35, 36. 

Cumard, 317. 

Curahuasi, 194. 

Cuys, 223, 274, 275. 

Cuzco, IX, I, 113, 137, 140, 145- 
147. 157. Chap. VIII, passim, 
185, 197, 203, 205, 210, 253, 
273. 307, 308, 311, 312, 321, 
323, 331-333. 339- 

Cuzco, Basin and ruins, 134, 142- 
148, 152, 155. 

bones, 149-156. 

gravels, 150, 151, 153-155. 

Historical Society, 203. 

hospital, 162. 

merchants, 158, 244. 

people in, 159-162, 200, 202. 

siege of, 170. 

university, l6l, 162, 226. 

de Laet, 198. 

Desert, coastal, vii, 10, 11, 15, 24, 

43. 52, 89. 
Devil, 248, 249. 
Devils, Corpouna, 26. 
Diego Mendez, 179, 182, 
Diego Ortiz, Friar, 188, 190-193, 

197, 238, 246, 252, 263, 297, 

Diseases, 127, 128, 261, 262. 
Divers, black, 79. 
Dogs, siincca shepherd, 121. 
Drainage, 146. 
Druggists, 128. 
Ducks, 79. 
Duque, Don Pedro, x, 228-231, 

Dyes, 107. 

Earthquakes, 95, 96, 281, 282, 

Eaton, Dr. George F., ix, 151, 

152, 154-156, 335, 336. 
Encomienda, 220. 
Equipment of Expeditions, 4-6, 

10, 13, 21, 34-36, 38-40- 
Erdis, E. C, ix. 
Eromboni Pampa, 294, 297. 
Erving, Dr. William G., ix, 149, 

Eskimo, 125, 127. 
Espiritu Pampa, 269, 278, 286, 

Chap. XV passim, 306, 336- 

Eucalyptus trees, 66, 70, 89, 145. 



Eye-bonders, 21 1. 

Fair at Copacabana, 106-109. 
at Lake Parinacochas, 69, 

Farrabee, Dr. William C, 202. 
Fer-de-lance, 315. 
Ferris, Dr. H. B., 126, 127. 
Fertilizers, 56, 103. 
Fig trees, 89, 283. 
Fishes, Inca, 100. 

in Lake Titicaca, 99. 

Fishing, 301. 
Fitzgerald, explorer, 33. 
Flags, 39, 46, 58. 
Flamingoes, 73, 77-79. 

Lake of, 50, 77. 

Fleas, 93, 137. 

Food boxes of expeditions, 3-6, 

34, 39, 
crops, 19, 56, 57, 62, 66, 72, 

73, 86, 103, 121, 123, 124, 136, 

173, 282, 286, 331. 

of Indian carriers, 280. 

Foote, Professor Harry W., ix, 4, 

149, 151, 202, 223-225, 231, 

266, 267, 270, 283, 286, 304. 
Footprints of the sun and moon, 

Ford, Dr. David E., ix, 300. 
Forests. See Trees. 
Forts and Fortresses, 135, 136, 

164-168, 171, 206, 209, 210, 

236, 241, 252, 307, 326, 338. 
Fountains, 141, 146, 294, 295. 
Friar Diego Ortiz, 188, 190-193, 

197, 238, 246, 252, 263, 297, 


Marcos Garcia, 182, 187, 

188, 190, 191, 197, 238, 246, 
248, 252, 263, 297, 334, 337. 

Melchior, 184. 

Fuel, 103, 144, 145. 

Gamarra, Corporal, 9, Chap. II, 
passim, 59, 60. 

Games of chance, 107. 

, bowling-on-the-green, 179, 

181, 244. 
checkers and chess, 179. 

Inca, 185. 

quoits, 179, 244. 

Garcia. See Friar Marcos. 
Garcia de Loyola, Captain, 186, 

194-197, 208, 227, 233, 236, 
239, 241, 242, 252, 265, 298- 
300, 304. 
Garcilasso Inca de la Vega, 173- 
175, 181, 182, 185, 194, 196, 

255, 304, 309- 
Gendarmes, 9, 25, 57, 68, 159, 215, 

271, 282. 
Giesecke, Dr., 142, 162, 163. 
Gilbert, G. Bruce, ix, 121. 
Glacial man, 153. 
Glaciers, vii. Chap. II, passim, 

52, 171, 273. 
Gold. See Ore. 
Gomez Perez, 1 79-1 81. 
Grace Brothers, 21. 
Grace & Company, W. R., x. 
Granaries, 135, See Storehouses. 
Granite, white, 243, 320. 
wall at Machu Picchu, 320, 

Gravels, Cuzco, 150, 151, 153- 

Green, Henry J., 21. 
Gregory, Professor Herbert E., 

ix, 99, 143, 154, 161. 
Grosvenor, Gilbert, ix. 
Guanaco, 64. 

Guaynapucara, 241, 242, 252. 
Gulls, 79. 
Guzman, Alonzo Enriques de, 

170, 175- 

the Indian carrier, 277- 

279, 280, 284, 304, 305. 

Hahas beans, 124. 
Hakluyt Society, 118, 307. 
Hamilton, Lord Frederick, 113. 



Hardy, Osgood, ix. 

Harkness, Edward S., ix. 

Harness, 134. 

Harper's Magazine, viii, 

Harv^ard Anthropological Expedi- 
tion, 202. 

Harvard Observatory, Arequipa, 
7, 13, 21, 45. 

Hasbrouck, J. J., ix. 

Havaspampa, 208. 

Hay, Clarence L., viii, 2, 253. 

Heald, K. C, ix, 154. 

Heller, Edmund, ix, 212, 217, 
300, 301. 

Hendriksen, Kai, ix, 22, 46, 49, 
51, 59, 61, 212, 272, 302, 323. 

Hicks, J., 21. 

Hill of Roses. See Rosaspata. 

Hinckley, F., 8, 9, 13^15. 

Honolulu, Nuuanu Pali near, 


salt lake near, 76. 

Horses, 134. 

Hospital at Cuzco, 162, 163, 

Hoyara, 256, 257. 

Hrdlicka, Dr. Ales, 126. 

Huacas, 147, 246, 247, 249. 

Huaccoto quarries, i6i. 

Huadquiiia, 208, 219, 220, 225, 

259, 282, 325. 
Huanacaurai, Mt., 144. 
Huancahuanca 66, 67, 71. 
Huaracondo, 159. 
Huarancalla, 188, 252, 253. 
Huarancalque, 253. 
Huascaran, Mt., 35. 
Huatanay River and valley, 133- 

137, 142, 144, 148, 149, 154. 
Hiiayara, 213. 
Huayna Picchu, Mt., 201, 215, 

Huayrachina, 213. 
Huilca, ix, 218, 264, 336. 
Hunting and fishing, 301. 
Hurtado, General Martin, 194, 

195- 197. 227. 

Ibis, 79. 

Ideographs, 309, 310. 

Idma, 235. 

Inca agriculture, 103, 144, 332. 

architecture, 104, 105, 130, 

141, 142, 166, 211, 216, 237, 

239, 242, 243, 294, 295, 321, 

328, 332. 

artifacts, 244. 

Atahualpa, 170. 

axes, 288. 

Beatrix Coya, 183. 

capital, 262. 

Carlos, 163. 

colonizaton methods, 141. 

dogs, 121. 

Empire, 133, 332, 333. 

enghieering, 331, 332. 

fish, 100. 

forts and fortresses, 135, 

146, 164-168, 171, 209, 210, 

236, 237, 240, 241, 245. 
Garcilasso, 173-175, 181, 

182, 185, 255. 

Hualpa, 196. 

Huayna Capac, 170, 194. 

labor system, 122, 166, 172, 

174, 206, 207, 208, 219, 276, 


Manco, 2, 170-178, 194, 

195, 197, 208, 210, 227, 244, 

245, 247, 251, 254, 258, 260, 

273, 297, 311, 330, 334, 337, 
338, 339- 

murder of, 1 81-183, 

179, 180, 181, 244. 

— Manco Ccapac, 170, 311- 
313. .327, 329, 330, 332. 

— Nusta, 250. 

— origin, myths concerning, 


— palaces, 163, 243, 245. 
Philipe Quispetutio, 241. 

— pottery, 131, 142, 287, 293, 
295, 296. 

priests, 217, 218, 248, 336. 



Inca property, 122, 207. 

raids, 1 73-1 75. 244, 253, 


religious customs and festi- 
vals, 105, 144, 147, 168, 185, 
189, 194, 203, 217, 218, 246, 
248, 250, 264, 265, 333. 

roads, 84-86. 

Rimachi Yupanqui, 183. 

ruins, 51, 65, 83-86, loi, 

117, 129-131, 135-142, 146, 
147, 165-168, 206, 207, 210- 
212, 215, 232, 236, 237, 239, 

240, 242, 268, 271, 292, 294, 
296, 298, 312, Chap. XVII, 

runners, 100, 207. 

Sayri Tupac, 183-186, 197, 

199, 204, 245. 

sculpture, 100, loi. 

stonework, 104, 129, 135, 

160, 163, 165, 166, 206, 224, 

321, 322. 
storehouses, 52, 65, 207, 

224, 225, 295. 
temples, 51, 129-132, 213, 

Titu Cusi Yupanqui, 163, 

182, 183, 186, 187, 189, 191- 

193, 197, 238, 241, 244-246, 

248, 252, 334. 
Tupac Amaru, 183, 186, 

193, 195-197, 216, 227, 234, 

241, 245, 268, 298-300, 303, 


Viracocha, 131, 132. 

wall at La Raya, 117, 119, 


weapons, 175. 

Yupanqui, 147. 

Incahuasi, 83, 84, 86. 

Incas, 123, 140-143, 165, 168, 

203, 325. 

"Cradle of" viii, 

Last Four, Chap. IX, passim, 

304, 306. 

Incas, Lost City of first, 306. 

Sacred City of last, 339. 

Indian population, 261, 263. 
Indians, 18. 

Amazonian, 303. 

Bolivian, 103. 

Campas, 267, 290, 303. 

carriers, 271, 275, 276, 283, 

clothing, 107, 108, 115, 116, 

161, 289-290, 302, 303. 
customs and superstitions, 

25-27,70,83,97, 106-109,115, 

116, 121-123, 128,203,204, 250, 

Manaries, 196, 255, 299. 

at Pampaconas, 271, 282, 


at Lake Parinacochas, 83. 

Pichanguerras, 289-291. 

Pilcosones, 255. 

savage, 267, 284, 286, 289, 


Yungas, 265, 336. 

Insects, 224, 286, 300, 301. 
Intihuatana, 247, 250, 334. 
Irrigation, 14, 55, 67. 

Jamieson, Dr. George S., 82. 
Jesuits, 220, 228. 
Jew's-harps, 244. 
Johnson, Frederic B., x. 

Kipling's "Explorer" 2. 
Kissing, ceremony of, 189, 248. 
Kkaira, 143. 

Koati, island of, lOl, 104, 105. 
Koolau Ditch Trail, 314. 
Kori, 213. 

Labor, methods of, 122, 123, 133, 
219, 271, 275, 276. 

La Farge, Bancel, 104. 

Lake Morkill, 148, 149. 

Muyna, 136. 

Parinacochas. See Parina- 



Lake Titicaca. See Titicaca. 

Lampa, 63-71. 

Lanius, Paul B., ix. 

La Raya, 116, 117, 119-121, 123, 

Las Casas, Bishop, 179, 218. 
Las Salinas, 148, 329. 
Lava, 24, 31, 52, 53, 85, 88, 91, 

132, 136. 
La Victoria Mine, 89, 91. 
Leagues, 7. 

Leguia, President A. B., ix, 68. 
Lima, 10, 57, 66, 185. 
Limatambo, 194. 
Little, Joseph, ix. 
Lizarraga, Sr., 219, 221, 226, 324. 
Lkalla Chaca, 146-148. 
Llacta, 211. 
Llamas, 51, 52, 57, 63-65, 85, 86, 

91, no, III, 146, 160, 174, 

253, 258, 260. 
Lomellini, Don Cesare, x, 163, 

164, 201. 
Lucma, 230, 231, 235-237, 251, 

253, 262. 
Lucre Basin and ruins, 134, 136, 

Lucumayo River, 194, 201, 226. 

Macaws, 269, 296, 298. 

Macchini, 147. 

Machu Picchu, ix, 135, 201, 202, 

215-222, 226, 265, 297, 298, 

306, Chap. XVn, passim, 323, 

Chap. XVIII, passim. 
last residents of, 335, 

McKinley, Mt., expedition, 8, 31. 
Majes, 18. 

desert of, vii, 15, 16, 94. 

River and valley, 16, 17, 19. 

Manantial de agua, 246. 
Mandor Pampa, 214, 215, 315, 

Manioc, 286. 
Mapillo River and valley, 253. 

Map, de Laet's, 198. 

Mercator's, 198. 

Miller's, 50. 

Raimondi's, 17, 232, 260, 

269, 272. 
Royal Geographical Society, 

269, 272. 

Wiener's, 201, 211. 

Maquina, La, 214. 

Maracnyoc, 232, 234. 

Maraicasa Valley, 88. 

Maranura, 325. 

Maras, 159, 231. 

Marcos Garcia, Friar, 182, 187, 

188, 190, 191, 197, 238, 246, 

248, 252, 263, 297, 334, 337- 
Marcou, 205. 
Markham, Sir Clements, 50, 74, 

118, 182, 312, 327, 328, 336. 
Marsupial, 213. 
Mastadon, 149, 
Mato-palo, 283. 
Maucallacta, 312, 313. 
Mauna Kea, Hawaii, 43. 
Maynard, Clarence F., ix, 300, 

Means, Philip A., 118, 307. 
Medanos, 10-12, 16. 
Medicines, 99, 128, 129, 163. 
Megaliths, 207, 210. 
Melchior, Friar, 184. 
Mendez. See Diego Mendez. 
Mercator, cartographer, 198. 
Meridian, 73d west of Greenwich, 

3, 8, 22, 51, 59. 
Mestizos, 221, 258, 259. 
Metals. See Ore. 
Miller, Gen. William, 50, 208. 
Millstones, 238. 
Milpa. See Agriculture. 
Mines, 232, 234, 238, 256, 257- 

259, 261, 262, 272. 

Huadquiiia, 220. 

La Victoria, at Caraveli, 89, 

Misti, El, 8, 53, 95. 



Mitchell, Mrs. Alfred, x, 
Mochadero, 189, 247. 
Mogrovejo, Evaristo, 230, 235, 

236, 239, 240, 246, 271, 275, 


Pio, 230. 

Molina, 147. 
Mollusks, 231. 
Momori, 196, 299, 300. 
Monkeys, 301-304. 
Monoliths at Tiahuanaco, 100. 
Montana, 6, 10, 255, 266-268. 
Montesinos, Fernando, 1 18-120, 

179, 183, 184, 307, 309, 310, 

Morkill, Geoffrey W., ix. 
Morkill, Lake, 148, 149. 
Morkill, William L., x, 149. 
Mortars and pestles, 92, 238, 239. 
Mountain sickness, 24, 36, 46, 47, 

63, 270. See Soroche. 
Muleteers, 7, 28-31, 51, 70, 88-90, 

93, 94- 
Mummies, 212. 
Mungi, 62. 
Muyna, Lake and town, 136. 

"Nakedness" taboo, loi. 

Nasca, 84, 85. 

National Geographic Magazine, 

viii, 216. 

Society, ix. 

Nelson, Dr. Luther T., 158, 159. 
New Britain hardware, 107. 
New Haven hardware, 107. 
Niches, 129, 130, 141, 142, 146, 

148, 211, 237, 239, 242, 246, 

295. 296, 320, 322, 328. 

step-topped, 104, 105. 

Nunez, Prefect of Cuzco, 157, 

Nusta Isppana, 247-250, 251, 


Oases, 10, 12, 13, 15, 52, 89, 91. 
Oca, 86, 124, 331. 

Ocampo, Baltasar de, 216, 227; 
232, 233, 234, 238, 240, 242, 
243, 245, 252, 257, 258, 263, 
265, 266, 272, 298, 336. 

Occobamba, 124. 

Ollantaytambo, 137, 170, 171, 
194, 201, 205-207, 209, 210, 
222, 225, 226, 295, 319. 

Onccoy, 257, 258. 

Oranges, 228. 

Ore, 272. 

crushing mill, 238, 239, 252. 

Orejones, 173. 

Orepesa, 137, 142. 

Basin and ruins, 134, 141, 

Ortiz. See Friar Diego Ortiz. 
Owls, 80. 
Ox, amphibious, 79. 

Pacaypata, 283. 

Paccaritampu, 120, 312, 313, 

327, 328, 330. 
Pachacuti VI, 1 18-129, 330, 331. 
Pachacuti VII, 308, 310. 
Pachacuti Yamqui Salcamayhua, 

311. 313, 328. 
Pachatucsa, Mt., 144. 
Pack animals and loading of, 7, 

8, 14, 83, 90, 91. 
Palaces, 243, 245. 
Paltaybamba, 233-236, 266. 
Pampa, 11, 205, 214, 215. 
Pampa Ccahua, 212. 
Pampacolca, 27. 
Pampa Colorada, 43, 52. 
Pampaconas Indians, 271. 
River and valley, 273, 280, 

283, 284, 299, 300. 
village, 268, 269, 271, 277, 

280, 288, 298, 304. 
Pampa of Ghosts, 269, 278, Chap. 

XV, passim. 
Pampas River, 253, 272. 
Pancorbo, Sr., Jose S., 200, 233, 

259, 266, 267. 



Panta, Mt., 171. 

Panticalla Pass, 171, 176, 194, 

201, 207, 208. 
Pararca, 72. 
Parinacochas Basin and ruins, 

74, 83-87, 91- 
Parinacochas, Lake, 50, 61, 69, 

73, 81-83. 
Bathymetric survey of, 


in, 82. 

birds of, 77-79. 
depth of, 75-77. 
Fair, 69, 83. 
temperature of water 

water, composition of, 

82, 83. 
Parker, Prof. H. C 
Pastor, Dr., 19. 
Pata, 211. 
Patagonians, 119, 
Patallacta, 211. 
Pava de la montana, 289. 
Paz Soldan, 199, 211, 262, 313. 
Peanuts, 269, 286, 298, 304. 
Peat, 52. 
Peccaries, 300. 
Peruvian Expeditions, 3, 200, 

202, 212. 
Peruvian gentlemen, 28. 
highlanders, loi, 103, 124- 

127, 226. 
Pestles, 92, 238, 239. 
Pichu Pichu, Mt., 95. 
Picol, Mt., 143, 161. 
"Picos, " 198. 

Pictographic rocks, 16, 17, 19,91. 
Pigs, 278, 279. 

Guinea, 223, 274, 275. 

Pigu^eed, 123, 124, 
"Pincos," 198. 
Piptadenia peregrina, 218. 
Piquillacta, Mt., 135-138. 

ruins of, 134-141. 

Piri, 208. 
Pisac, 137. 

Pitas, 16. 

Pitcos, 199, 216, 240, 252. 

Pizarro, Francisco, 148, 168, 170, 

171, 175, 177-180, 210, 232, 

251, 253, 333, 337- 

Gonzalo, 178-180, 227, 244. 

Plantain, 331. 

Ploughing, 122, 123. 

Pneumonia, 127. 

Polo de Ondegardo, 100, 146, 207, 

Polynesian kumala, 317. 
Poplar trees, 206. 
Posnansky, Sr., 98, 99. 
Potatoes, 26, 86, 121, 146, 160, 

212, 257, 331. 

frozen, 25, 103. See Chuno. 

sweet, 282, 317, 331. 

Potsherds, 86, 93, 142, 244, 250. 
Pottery, found, 86, 287, 295, 296, 


making, 131, 132. 

Prain, Mr., manager of "La 

Victoria" mine, 89. 
Pre-Inca civilization, 85, 86, 91- 

93, 100, loi, 118, 137, 140, 152. 
Prescott, William H., 148, 175, 

Pucara ruins, 146. 
Pucard, 236. 
Pucyura, 200, 232, 237, 252-254, 

259, 260, 262, 263, 297, See 

PumaUrco caves, 312, 313. 
Puno, 97. 
Puquiura, 187, 190, 191, 200, 238, 

248, 252, 255, 263, 297, 335. 

See Pucyura. 
Puyusca, 73-75, 83. 

Qqutnte, 211. 

Quichua language, ix, 121, 199. 

holiday makers, 1 14. 

Quichuas, no, 125-127, 152, 158; 

occupation, 120, 121. 



Quichuas, studies made of, 125, 

126, 158, 159. 
Quillabamba, 228, 230. 
Quinine, 118. 
Quinoa, 124, 331. 
Quipus, 100, 309, 310. 
Quispicanchi, 141. 
Quispi Cusi, 268. 

Rabbit-squirrels, 87. 

Racche, 129-132. 

Raimondi, 3, 27, 44, 83, 199, 208, 
211, 232, 234, 237, 238, 252, 
260, 262, 269, 272, 325. 

Rainy season, 76, 234. 

Repartimientos, 133, 180, 220. 

Reynolds, Miss Mary G., x. 

Richarte, 317-319, 323, 325- 

Rio Grande Valley, 91. 

Roads, Inca, 84-86. 

modern, 202, 214, 259, 318, 

324, 325- 
Rock circles, 85. 
Rodriguez de Figueroa, Diego, 

186, 244, 268, 298, 299. 
Romero, Carlos, 200, 232. 
Roof pegs, 211, 295. 
Roof tiles, 295. 
Roofs, corrugated iron, 116. 
Roosevelt, Theodore, 58. 
Root-crops, 56, 86, 87, 103, 121, 

123, 124, 331. 
Root, Elihu, 58. 
Rosaspata, 237, 239, 240, 242, 

243, 246, 252, 258, 260 262, 

Royal Geographical Society pub- 
lications, 50, 269, 272. 
Rubber, 228, 233, 235, 255, 262, 

266, 267, 291. 
Ruins, 200, 201, 221, 236, 238, 

239, 243, 246, 262, 268, 306, 312. 

Callanga, 91-93. 

Ccllumayu, 221-223. 

Chichipampa, 65, 

Cboqquequirau, 1-3, 199, 

202, 220, 230, 232, 262, 298. 
Ruins, Chumpillo, 51, 52. 

Corihuayrachina, 213. 

Eromboni Pampa, 294, 297. 

Espiritu Pampa, Chap. XIV 

and XV, passim, 206. 

Hoyara (Huayara), 234. 

Huayna Picchu, 215. 

Incahuaracana, 236, 237, 


Incahuasi, 83, 84, 86. 

La Raya, 117, 119. 

Machu Pirchu, 215, Chap. 

XVII and XVIII, passim. 

Nusta Isppana, 247-250. 

Ollantaytambo, 137, 205- 


Paccaritampu, 312, 327. 

Panticalla Pass, 207. 

Patallacta, 211. 

Piquillacta, 134-141. 

Pre-Inca, 86, 91, 100, 137. 

Pucara, 146. 

Racche, 129-131. 

Rosaspata, 237, 239, 240, 

242, 306. 

Rumiccolca, 134-141. 

Rumihuasi, 148. 

Sacsahuaman, 164-168. 

Salapunco, 208-210. 

Say 11a, 142-144. 

Tampu Machai, 146, 147. 

Tipon, 141, 142. 

Titicaca and Koati Islands, 


Torontoy, 211, 212. 

Uncapampa, 239, 242. 

Yurak Rumi, 222, 224, 225. 

Rumiccolca, Mt., 139. 

ruins, 134-141. 

Rumihuasi, 148. 
Runners, Inca, 100, 207. 

Saavedra, 266-268, 284-292, 296, 

Sacrifice, human, 147, 334. 



Sacsahuaman, 164-168, 209. 
Saddles, 134. 

Safford, W. E., 217, 218, 335. 
Salapunco, 208, 209, 210. 
Salcantay, Mt., 171, 208, 245, 

253. 325- 

River and valley, 225. 

Salt works, 148, 329. 
Samoans, 103. 

San Fernando, 280-282, 304. 
San Francisco de la Victoria, 256, 

257, 260. 
San Geronimo, 142-144. 
San Miguel River and bridge, 

200, 217, 219, 221, 233, 324, 


Valley, 235, 262, 266, 267. 

San Sebastian, 148. 

Santa Ana, 117, 200, 227-231, 

Chap. XI, passim, 259. 
Santa Rosa, no, 112-116. 
Sarasara, Mt., 67, 72, 81, 87. 
Sartiges, Count de, 199, 208, 220, 

324. 325- 
Savages, 267, 284, 286, 287, 289, 

290, 294, 296, 300-304. 
Saylla, 142-144, 149. 
Schools, 237, 238. 
Scissors, 244. 
Sculpture, 100, loi. 
Seahorse, 99. 
Seneca, Mt., 203. 
Seymour, Professor T. D., 93. 
Sheep, 57, 63, 69, 80, 120, 145, 

Shells, fossil, 149. 

land, 231. 

Shepherds, 65, 121. 

clothing of, 81. 

superstitious, 80, 81, 86. 

Sicuani, 128, 129. 

Sierra, John, 184, 185. 

Sihuas, desert and pampa of, 12, 


oasis of, 15. 

Simaponte, 196, 299, 300. 
Sirialo River, 300. 

Skulls, horses', 116, 

trepanned, 84, 335. 

Slings, 175, 176, 237, 310. 

Snails, 231. 

Snakes, 43, 92, 315, 317. 

pictures and carvings of, 

Snow, 20, Chap. II, passim, 72, 


blindness, 27, 49. 

creepers, 35, 36, 41, 

Snuff, 217, 218, 264, 336. 

Soiroccocha, Mt., 112, 171. 

Solimana, Mt., 43, 53, 54, 62. 

Sondor, 88. 

Sorata, Mt., 105. 

Soray, Mt., 171, 208, 253. 

Soroche, 25, 32, 34, 37, 38, 40. See 

Mountain sickness. 
Spanish Conquest of Peru, Chap. 

IX, passim. 
fugitives, 179-182, 244, 

— —laws, 133, 179, 180, 197. 
Spiders, 224. 
Squier, E. G., I, 129, 130, 136, 

139, 157. 159, 205. 
Stairs, stone, 141, 274, 292, 321. 
Stephenson, Robert, ix. 
Steps, ornamental use in architec- 
ture, 104-105. 
Stone-granary, 135. 

pegs, 296, 320. 

seats, 251. 

Stonework, 104, 129, 135, 160, 

163, 165, 166, 206, 224, 321, 

Storehouses, Inca, 52, 65, 207, 

224, 225, 295. 
Sugar, 5, 32, 41, 270, 288, 304. 

cane, 219, 220, 259, 285, 286. 

mill, 286-288. 

Sumner's "Folkways," 309. 

Sun, Prayer to, 248. 

Temples and Houses of, 

188, 190, 191, 193, 197, 241, 

246, 249, 251, 252. 



Sun, Virgins of, 193, 265, 297, 

333, 338, 340. 
Worship of, 105, 147, 167, 

168, 189, 203, 248, 249, 333, 

334. 338. 
Suncca dogs, 121. 

Taft, Hon. William H., x. 

Tailor at Cotahuasi, 60. 

Tambo Machai, 147. See Tampu 

Tampu, 20j,T,is, 328. 
Tampu Machai, 146, 147. 
Tampu-tocco, Lost City of Incas, 

120, 306, 307, 311-313, 327- 

rulers and priests of, 308- 

Tea, 32, 39, 270, 305. 
Tejada brothers, 7, 28-31, 51, 70, 

88, 89, 93, 94. 
Temblor, 281. 

Temperature, 27, 28, 45, 82, 103. 
Temple of Three Windows, 322, 


Viracocha, 129-132. 

Temples, 51, 129-132, 213, 247, 
321, 322. 

Temporales, 124, 204. 

Tents, 31, 32, 37. 

Terraces {see Andenes), 54-57, 
62, 66, 84, loi, 105, 124, 135, 
140, 141, 146, 165-167, 204, 
206, 209, 21 1-2 1 3, 215, 246, 
247, 294, 296, 315, 317, 319, 
320, 325. 

Thomas, Oldfield, 213. 

Tiahuanaco, 98, 100, lOI. 

Tierra del Fuego, 127. 

Tilano de Anaya, 192, 193. 

Timpucpuquio, 147. 

Tincochaca, 240, 251, 252. 

River, 239. 

Tipon ruins, 141, 152. 

Titicaca, Lake, Chap. V, passim. 

climate, 102. 

depth, 75, 99. 

Titicaca, Lake, fish in, 99. 

islands of, 101-103, 

temperature of water, 

Titicaca Basin, no, 116, 120. 
tribes, 117, 118. 

Tobacco, 286, 2i 
Tocco, 328. 

cave called, 329. 

Toledo, Don Francisco de, 192, 

193, 227, 241, 277, 329, 339. 
Tompkins, Mrs. Blanche P., x. 
Torontoy, 209-213, 314, 319. 
Torres, Sr. Lopez, 229, 266, 293. 
Totoras, 97. 
Trade and commerce, 106, 114, 

128, 158, 207. 
Transportation, difficulties of, 14, 

89-91, 172, 214, 272. 
Traveling, difficulties of, 58, 67, 

Treasure seeking, 19, 52, 202, 

230, 242. 
Tree ferns, vii, 284. 
Trees and "tree line" in Andes, 

66, 70, 89, 112, 113, 144, 145, 

206, 212, 236, 283. 
Ttica Ttica Pass, 144, 203. 
Tuberculosis, 128. 
Tucker, H. L., ix, 8, 9, Chap. II, 

passim, 58, 75, 80, 88, 92, 212, 

302, 323. 
Tullumayu, 164. 
Turkeys, 289. 
TtUu potato, 86. 
Ubinas, Mt., 53. 
Ucayali River, 116. 
Uilca {see Hiiilca), 218, 336. 
Uilcamayu (Uilca) River, 117, 

Uilcapampa, ix, 87, 171, 172, 183, 

184, 192, 195, 197, 198, 208, 

219, 227, 232, 240, 241, 243, 

251, Chap. XIII, passim, 273, 

297, 322. See Vilcabamba. 
Old, 266, 268. 



Uiticos, ix, 171, 172, 177-179, 
181, 183, 184, 188-190, 192, 
193. 197. 198, 201, 216, 221, 
227, 229, 230, 232, 238, 240, 
241, 245, 246, 251, 253-255, 
258, 260, 261, 263, 298, 306, 

337. 338. 
Z7//t<CM, 87,331. 
Uncapampa, 239, 242. 
Ungacacha, 264, 297. 
"University of Idolatry," 264, 

265, 297, 334-336. 
Vru, 205. 
Urubamba, Grand Canyon of, 

213. 314. 330- 

meaning of, 205. 

rapids, 318. 

River and valley, 116, 117, 

120, 133, 195, 201, 203, 204, 

208, 209, 215, 228, 259, 262, 

272, 273, 299, 337. 

town of, 204. 

tribes, 118. 

Vaccination, 125. 

Vargas, Senora Carmen, 219-222. 

Velasco, Luis de, 257. 

Ventana, 328. 

Venus, morning star, 94. 

Veronica, Mt., 171, 207, 208, 325. 

Vicunas, 54, 69, 87, 1 1 1, 1 12. 

Vilcabamba, 199, 227, 234, Chap. 

XIII, passim, 268, 269, 271, 

288, 297, 299, 303, 337. See 

River and valley, 227, 232- 

234, 236-238, 252, 254, 260, 

Viejo, 263-266, 297, 298, 

335, 336, 338. 
Vilcanota Cordillera, I ID. 
River and valley, 117, 134, 

135. 137- 
Villadiego, Captain, 175-177, 194, 

Viracocha, Temple of, 129-132. 

Viscachas, 87. 

Viscarra, Sr., 57-61. 

Vista Alegre, 283. 

Viticos (Vitcos), 182, iq8, 199, 

251, 260. 
Vitor, 9, 10. 

oasis of, 12, 13. 

Volcanoes, 30, 43,53, 81, 95, 138. 

Wars, civil of Spanish conquerors, 

148, 179. 

of Independence, 50. 

of Spanish Conquest, 168, 

Chap. IX, passim. 

tribal, 1 18-120, 332. 

Water supply, 234. See Azeguias. 
Watkins, Casimir, 8, 9, 35, 45-47, 

59, 75, 76. 
Weapons, 92, 120, 175, 195, 301, 

Weaving, 60, 69, 70, no, 120, 

Whirl-bobs, Inca, 244. 
White Rock over spring, 188-190, 

200, 240, 247-251. 
Whooping cough, 37, 47, 48. 
Whymper, 33. 
Wiener, Charles, 201, 202, 205, 

207, 208, 211, 215, 229, 324, 

Willow trees, 13, 145, 206. 
Wind, 10, II, 32, 35, 46, 82, 103. 
Windows, Masonry wall with 

(Temple of) Three, 312, 313, 

320, 322, 327, 328, 332, 333. 
Wine growers, 18. 

jars, 13, 18. 

Woodpeckers, 79. 

Writing, invention of, 309, 3 10. 

Yale flag, 39, 46. 

Yucay, 137, 186, 194, 197, 203, 

Yucca, 331. 
Yurak Rumi, 189, 197, 221-2^5, 



^ f:- 

3 1236 00356 8519 

Date Due 

DEC 6 '40 

4JN I 




i i' "13^5 4